


the day that came and went

by bloodredcherries



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2019-07-07 04:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 55,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15901023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodredcherries/pseuds/bloodredcherries
Summary: This is the story of a town.A sleepy town, one that can be found on the Metro North train line, far away from the bustle of New York City. A town recently shrouded by darkness. This is the story of a town that is being overtaken by fear, and the insidious forces of corruption.This is the story of a boy, and a girl, now both adults, and how the forces of the town they grew up in conspired to keep them away from each other, and how they fell back together. This is the story of their children, following in their footsteps, determined not to make their parents’ mistakes.This is a story about teenagers that are in over their heads, and their equally powerless parents.This is the story of the town where everyone has a secret, whether they want to admit it.It is a town under the constant scrutiny of Hiram Lodge, a shady businessman that should have never gotten out of prison.A town where North and Southsiders must band together to combat the evil that longs to keep them apart, constantly lurking beneath the surface.The name of the town is Riverdale.





	1. take a seat beside me

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: The following story is a work of fiction. I do not claim to own Riverdale or any of the Archie comics, nor do I claim to be writing this story as an agent of the CW network or Archie Comics. This story is AU after ‘Chapter 34: Judgment Night’, though certain additional elements of future episodes may possibly be included. If a chapter contains season 3 spoilers, I will note so in the the author’s note and summary of the chapter in question. 
> 
> This chapter is for the prompt "bow" in LuxKen27's 2018 Summer Mini Challenge.

“You need to  _ slow down _ , FP,” Alice said firmly, cradling her phone with her elbow as she scrubbed pointlessly at a spot in her double sink, trying very hard to pretend that she wasn’t cleaning blood, or essentially having been living in the house of a  _ murderer _ for a period of time that she was trying to hard to forget seemed to stretch for an eternity. “Slow down, and  _ breathe _ ,” she instructed. “I can’t understand what you’re saying.” It had been a rather trying evening for Alice, finding out that her husband was the Black Hood and that he’d wanted to kill her (and had nearly  _ done so _ , if it hadn’t been for...well, she didn’t want to dwell on it), that it was almost nice to focus on someone else’s problems for once. At least, it would have been if FP had spoken slowly enough that she could comprehend his other-people-problems, which he seemed incapable of doing. “Start from the beginning,” she stressed. 

 

The texts that she had seen on her phone after the shower Tom Keller had suggested she take, after she refused to do anything more than allow him to document her injuries and take her and Elizabeth’s statements, rationalizing that Hal’s charges were already going to be serious enough without the addition of her having to detail to that  _ other _ Sheriff what her  _ husband _ had done to her (Tom was a  _ friend _ , after all. Alice knew she could trust him. She didn’t trust that other one, the one that was in  _ Hiram’s _ pocket) -- they had alarmed her. She had allowed Elizabeth to go with Archibald to check on Jughead (FP had seemed panicked when he had called Betty, and Alice hadn’t wanted to be cruel, not to FP, not now, when he was the  _ only _ one she’d ever loved or  _ thought _ she’d loved that hadn’t betrayed her) and she had been expecting a report back from the teens that their friend was alright, but the texts that she had received had been  _ unsettling _ . 

 

“First of all,” she said, hearing FP breathing on the other end of the phone, but not actually answering her, “is Jughead okay?” She frowned at the sink, continuing to scrub away at it. She felt unclean. “FP?”

 

“Can you come down?” He said after a moment, so softly that she barely heard him. “Al, please, I know it’s late, and I know you have --”

 

“I have  _ no one _ ,” she corrected. “Yes, I can come down.” FP made a noise that sounded like a snort, and she continued to speak. “I will tell you what happened there,” she said quietly. “I need to get out of this house.”

 

She bade FP goodbye, fairly certain that he was going to behave himself during the twelve minutes it would take her to gather her things and drive over to Riverdale General Hospital, or, at least,  _ attempt _ to behave himself. She was grateful that she had showered and changed out of the clothes that Hal had strangled her in, though she wished that she had taken more care in choosing the outfit she had changed into, wrinkling her nose as she caught a glimpse of how  _ casual _ she looked in her (Alice shuddered)  _ yoga pants _ and her  _ sweatshirt _ . Alice did not know where on earth she had gotten a hoodie at all, but she was just resigned at this point to the decision to wear it. She was going to see Betty’s injured boyfriend, after all. And FP, of course, but Alice could have worn a burlap sack to the hospital and he would have been satisfied. 

 

She paused, for a moment, and opened the hallway closet to pull out an old, familiar, leather jacket, one that she’d held on both for sentimental reasons, and to spite Hal, and she had insisted on keeping it in decent condition. She slipped it on, pleased when it still fit. Alice had meant it when she told the Serpents that she was one of them in the classroom that day, and if wearing the jacket made them believe her? She was more than willing.

 

The drive to the hospital was a silent one, and she parked the station wagon opposite the entrance to the ER, wanting to give FP a quick route of escape if need be. 

 

Fully aware of the stares that she was getting as she walked down the corridor in the direction of the Emergency Room, she slipped off her sunglasses, perching them on top of her head. Alice was tired of caring what people thought. She was tired of forcing herself to consider her appearance at all times, and if people thought Alice dressed casually and wearing a Serpents’ jacket was worthy of gawking (of course Alice knew that they were recognizing her as the wife of the Black Hood, but Betty wasn’t the only one with an imagination), well, let them. She wasn’t ashamed.

 

“Cousin Alice,” Alice heard a familiar voice say, and she stopped suddenly, trying not to gawk at the outfit that Cheryl Blossom was wearing, which reminded her entirely too much of Little Red Riding Hood. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

 

“I beg you…” She trailed off, mainly because she found herself being enveloped in a rather tight hug by said girl, which was impending her ability to breathe. “Cheryl,  _ let go _ ,” she said. “You’re  _ hurting me. _ ” 

 

Cheryl had the sense to look abashed. She released her, beckoning another girl over, who had shockingly pink hair. Alice vaguely recalled her from when she thanked the Serpents, but she couldn’t remember her name, and she seemed important to Cheryl, so...remembering her decision to be polite to residents of the Southside and pretend that she didn’t find Juniper and Dagwood’s aunt to be odious, she plastered on a friendly smile, directing it at...whatever her name was. 

 

“Cousin Alice,” Cheryl said, and she made a mental note to remind Cheryl that she was not her cousin at a later date, though she privately wondered if it would have any effect. “I wanted you to meet my girlfriend, Toni.” Alice stared, before collecting herself. “Toni, this is Cousin Betty’s mother,” she said. 

 

“It’s nice to meet you,” she settled on, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, forgetting that it exposed the growing bruises that good old ‘ _ Cousin Hal _ ’ had left behind. They had not been as noticeable in the dim light of her house, but, unfortunately, the harsh lighting of the hospital highlighted them nicely. She’d been in too much pain to even consider covering them up. Not for just staying at home wishing she was anywhere else, or for being around FP, who probably would have noticed her injury anyways. Still, the two women had clearly noticed, judging by the looks on their faces. “Have either of you seen FP? He called me and asked me to meet him here.”

 

“What happened to you?” Toni asked. “Your neck…?”

 

She pursed her lips. “My ticket out got returned,” she said dryly, not sure if either would get the meaning of her words, before biting her lip and letting out a sigh. “My husband did it to me,” she admitted. “He did a lot of horrible things to people who didn’t deserve it.” 

 

“It’s okay, Cousin Alice,” Cheryl said, gently touching her arm. “No one here blames you.”

 

She opened her mouth to reply to her....whatever Cheryl Blossom was to her, before the presence of FP in the waiting room caught her eye, and she perked up slightly, inwardly chastising herself for her excitement. Her husband was in jail, for  _ murdering people _ , she reminded herself, and poor FP’s son was in a  _ hospital bed _ . It wasn’t the time to flirt with the Serpent who had stolen her heart from her all those years ago. FP crossed the room, ignoring the clearly waiting Serpents (Alice made a mental note to chastise him later for being so rude to them) in favor of directly approaching her. 

 

“FP,” she said, trying to maintain her fragile shreds of composure as he pulled her into a hug. “I came as soon as I could,” she murmured, speaking mainly into his shirt, not caring that they had the potential of being a spectacle. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”

 

“You okay?” He asked, as she felt him run his hands down her back, the sensation barely noticeable due to her leather jacket, but comforting all the same. “I wanted to make sure that  _ you _ were okay,” he said. “Betty, she said that you were gonna be alright, but I wanted to make sure. See for myself.”

 

“Not really,” she said, glancing upward for a moment, before she leaned her head on FP’s chest. “My neck hurts,” she admitted. There was no hiding the bruises, and it seemed that FP had some idea of the truth. “But, I’ll be alright. Eventually.” She sighed. “How is Jughead?”

 

“He’s going to be alright,” FP said, after a worryingly long silence. “He’s bruised up, his arm’s all cut up, along with the rest of him, but the doctors say he will be okay. Betty’s with him now, they’re asleep.”

 

“I want to see them,” she decided. Mainly because she sensed that she and FP were going to have a much needed conversation, and it was probably one that the other Serpents weren’t privy to. She had giving up hiding things, and her sense of pride, but she knew that FP was a proud man, and she knew that it would kill him to discuss the messages she had received in front of the Serpents he was in charge of. “Will you take me there?” She looped her fingers through FP’s, surprised when she didn’t feel the metal of his wedding band, but she said nothing out loud, settling instead for squeezing his hand tightly. She had taken her rings off after Hal’s confession, wanting to throw them into the fire but sensing it wasn’t a time for drama.    
  


“You should get that looked at,” he said softly, and she winced as he brushed his fingers against one of the bruises. “After we check in on them. He could have really hurt you, Al.”

 

“Okay,” she agreed, rather reluctantly. “Just...don’t let them make a big deal out of it?”

 

She felt him press a kiss to her temple. “You’re kinda always a big deal, Al. But, I’ll give it my best.”

 

Typically, the comment would have gotten him a retort in response, but she was tired, and she was hurting, and she didn’t want him to let her go. She was tired of being let go. 

 

“FP? You’ll stay with me, right?” 

 

“Of course, Al,” he assured her. “I promise, I won’t leave unless that’s what you want me to do.” FP (who had been propelling Alice along for the most part) stopped in front of a closed door, opening it slowly, placing a supportive hand on her back. Elizabeth was sound asleep in the chair beside the hospital bed, still clad in her trench coat, dried tear tracks on her cheeks, and the sight of her daughter, safe and whole, caused her to breathe a sigh of relief. It was then that her gaze shifted from Betty to Jughead, and her heart went into her chest. 

 

“ _ FP _ !” She exclaimed in an exasperated, yet quiet, tone, gesturing to the teenage boy laying in the bed, hooked up to numerous machines and looking as if he had been the sole fighter in a guerilla war, beyond unamused at the way he had understated the poor thing’s condition. “What  _ happened _ to him?”

 

Beside her, FP drooped. “Penny Peabody happened,” he said. “She’s in bed with Hiram Lodge. He paid her and the Ghoulies to come to town and raise hell, and Jug tried to end things by sacrificing himself in the process.”

 

“This is  _ outrageous _ ,” she said. “Where is that idiot of a Sheriff, FP? Shouldn’t he be here to lie to you and tell you he wants to put a stop to this?” 

 

“You know what it’s like, Alice,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “They’d just be upset she didn’t finish the job. Minetta, he doesn’t care about us. Not even enough to pretend.”

  
  


***

 

“I really don’t think this is needed, FP,” Alice said, and he watched her purse her lips as she took off her Serpent jacket (that had been a pleasant surprise for FP to see), neatly folding it before handing it to him, discarding her sweatshirt as well, revealing a rather lacy tank top, that, under normal circumstances, he would have gladly torn off her. Even he knew that the evening that her husband tried to  _ strangle _ her was not an appropriate time, no matter how hot he found her dressed down for once. “Hal hurt  _ so many _ people. It’s just a little bruising.”

 

“He  _ strangled _ you,” he said, going for blunt. “I understand if you don’t want to press charges, Al, but you  _ need _ to make sure that he didn’t seriously injure you. If not for your sake, for Betty’s. She’s going to need her mom, especially since her old man is going to go to prison for a  _ long _ time.”

 

“Okay,” she said, her voice hoarse, and he gave her an appraising look, realizing that she looked like she was about to cry. “Yeah, FP, I get it.”

 

“Gladys didn’t,” he said, helping Alice up on to the hospital bed and perching carefully on the edge, not wanting to potentially injure her further, but not wanting her to feel like she was alone. Because she wasn’t. Whether she wanted to come back to the Serpents or not, FP wasn’t going to let her feel like she was alone. “She left Jug here, all alone to rot, and now she’s sending Jellybean home too.” He toyed with a hole in his jeans. “Told me she doesn’t care if we see each other again, that Toledo was going to be her fresh start and if I wanted to see JB I could see her permanently.” He sighed. “Don’t really know how that’s going to work out with Sunnyside in literal flames, but…”

 

“You can stay with us?” Alice suggested. “It would probably be beneficial to Jughead if his healing wasn’t constantly surrounded by gang warfare, not to mention the positive effects that my daughter not being caught in what is apparently a  _ literal _ crossfire would do for my sanity.”

 

FP blinked, wondering if Alice was pulling a fast one over him, though it seemed unlike her. She looked over at him, her eyes filled with something that seemed almost like...hope, was it? He hadn’t seen the expression in awhile in general, let alone on Alice’s face. He supposed that her idea wasn’t a bad one. Jellybean could get to experience living in a  _ house _ , with an actual room, not just a pull out couch, and he had to concede that the thought of living next to a flaming row of trailers was unappealing, even by his standards. 

 

“Yeah, alright,” he said, squeezing her hand again. “We can try, okay?”

 

“Okay,” she said, and he leaned over to brush a kiss against her lips, only barely managing to pull away before the curtain was pulled back and a nurse appeared. “It’s okay,” she said. 

 

“Mrs. Coop--”

 

“It’s Ms. Smith, actually,” Alice said, cutting her off with that bland, ever so vaguely frightening smile. “I’m in the process of getting a divorce, for obvious reasons.” The smile was replaced with an  _ actually _ frightening glare, and FP made a mental note to avoid doing things that would lead to that. It seemed like a good bit of self preservation. “I just want you to check my neck, and get it over with,” she continued. “There’s no need to make small talk.”

 

The nurse blanched, her expression akin to having sucked on a lemon, though whether that was because of Alice or because she had taken a good look at  _ him _ and realized the head reporter at the  _ Riverdale Register _ was associated with the head of the  _ Southside Serpents _ , he didn’t know. Either way, it amused him, something he definitely needed after the day he’d had. It had been the day from hell at the start, and it only got worse as the day had gone on. 

 

“Listen to the lady,” he offered up, smiling into Alice’s hair. “She knows what she wants, Nurse. You heard her.”

 

“Whatever Ms. Smith wants, I’m sure we can handle,” the nurse said, eying them both with poorly concealed horror as he moved closer to Alice, filling the role of doting King with practiced ease. 

 

She’d been his Queen once, hadn’t she? Or as good as? Whatever betrayals Alice had dealt the Southside, and there  _ were _ a lot of them, were things that if he was  _ honest _ he really couldn’t blame her for. Hal had been her ticket out, after all, and considering that he was in the local lockup for being a murderous terror, and he and Alice were in a triage unit at the ER because he had tried to  _ off  _ the woman, FP was very dubious he had been encouraging fairness to Alice’s past or the people that had once been her family. The articles had hurt, he wasn’t going to lie, but he was big enough to admit that there was truth to them. 

 

On a personal level, he  _ knew _ he’d hurt her. He couldn’t blame her for taking the out. She’d  _ deserved _ to take the out. And if that meant putting up with Alice marrying Hal and being a Northside stick-in-the-mud? He’d decided to deal. He had had Gladys, anyways. He’d thought that she  _ loved  _ him. So what if he still dreamed of the woman with blonde hair that he’d once thought would have ruled by his side? Alice was  _ just _ a fantasy. 

 

FP had never wanted it to turn out like  _ this. _

 

“I think you scared her,” he pointed out, having watched the nurse do Alice’s triage and arrange for an x-ray in what seemed like record time. “Ms. Smith, eh? You’re really giving that name up?”

 

“Why shouldn’t I?” She asked. “All everyone will see when they see it is ‘she was married to the Black Hood’. As if I’m not  _ already _ going to be the laughingstock of town. I probably won’t even have a  _ job _ when those  _ utter hypocrites _ that moron sold  _ my paper _ to find out he was  _ popping people off _ .” 

 

“You’ll be okay,” he said. “You can start your own paper, couldn’t you?”

 

“I’m so  _ tired _ , Jonesy,” she said in reply, and if FP was surprised by the old nickname she’d used, he did not express it at all. “I’m tired of pretending that everything is going to be okay. I try so hard and now my daughter is off in  _ California _ with my  _ only _ grandchildren because I let  _ Chic _ drive her away, the man I was married to for  _ decades _ was a  _ serial killer _ right under my nose, I was so  _ oblivious _ and I put Betty in so much danger because I didn’t  _ see anything out of sorts.  _ Jughead is in a  _ coma _ and the town is _ under attack _ and I feel so helpless.” 

 

“I know, Al,” he whispered, running a hand across his face. “So do I.”

  
  



	2. her dreams went out the door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You hungry?” He asked, pivoting on the spot, headed over to the vending machine in the corner, gesturing to it. The vending machine had probably been there since they were kids, and, while normally Alice would turn her nose up at it, she was hungry and she supposed she could live with eating questionable products from it. Part of her wanted to insist that she and FP get something substantial to eat, but she wanted to eat food from the hospital cafeteria even less. She might have been embracing her Southside history, but Alice really thought that the cafeteria food would give them something hideous, like botulism. Or the plague. She wasn’t going to risk it. “Get whatever you want,” he directed. “My treat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt 'want'

“Did you ever think about us?” FP asked, his tone aiming for casual, but even he could tell he was failing miserably. “About what we could have been? I would have tried  _ anything _ for you, Alice. Even trying to leave the Southside, if that was what you wanted.”   
  


“You love the Southside, FP,” she said, letting out a quiet sigh. “Did I think about us? Of course  I did. I  _ loved _ you. I just...I got tired of  _ lying _ to you, okay? Every day that you thought I had been sitting in  _ jail  _ when I wasn’t at school when I had been locked away  _ having your baby _ ...I knew that giving the baby up was the right thing to do, but  _ God _ I should have just  _ told you _ . I couldn’t keep lying about it. It wasn’t fair to you.” She glanced at him, briefly, before resuming her stare at her lap. “So I ended things with you, and I moved on with Hal. Lying to him was easier, it didn’t hurt me like lying to you did.” 

 

“I’ve hurt  _ so many _ people,” she breathed. “My  _ husband _ hurt so many people. I was so  _ stupid. _ ”

 

“No,” he said. “You were  _ abused _ , Alice. You were scared, you were frightened, he was your  _ husband _ . I hated the jackass too and I never thought he was a  _ serial killer _ . Hal’s actions aren’t yours to apologize for.”

 

“You think he abused me?” 

 

“Look at your  _ neck _ , Alice.” 

 

“Oh.” She lapsed into silence, and he wondered if he had been too harsh, but he decided that it had needed to be said. “I should have been  _ smarter _ . I went to  _ Columbia _ .”

 

For a moment he wondered how on earth Alice had dragged Hal Cooper to South America, before he remembered that Columbia was the name of that fancy school that Alice had gotten accepted to, directly after she’d returned from her stint at what everyone had assumed was juvenile hall but what had apparently been her trip to the Sisters. 

 

“It’s not your fault,” he told her. “None of this was your fault.” She was crying. “I  _ promise  _ that none of this was your fault. You did the best you could with what you had. And, Al, I don’t blame you for doing what you had to do for Charles. I wouldn’t have wanted him to grow up with the life we had.” He placed a hand on her lower back, rubbing it gently. “We both fucked up, okay?”

 

“I was a horrible husband to Gladys,” he said. “I kind of don’t blame her for saying those things she said. It’s my fault Jug is stuck here.” 

 

“Gladys  _ told  _ you that?” 

 

“Said that she didn’t really see the point of coming up for it,” he muttered. “Seeing as even when I’m sober I can’t get it right.” He felt her hand rest on his leg. 

 

“FP…” Alice said. “You can’t blame yourself for this,” she sighed. “I don’t care what Gladys thinks about you. And I think it’s  _ unbelievably _ hypocritical of her to say  _ anything _ after she left Jughead stuck  _ here _ while you were off in jail.” She cleared her throat. “Did she tell you that she did that? That Jughead called her and she said that she didn’t have the  _ room _ for him? How dare she judge  _ anything _ you’ve done?”   
  


“What are you talking about?” 

 

“Fred Andrews told me,” she said, the look that she gave him one of practiced innocence. “Okay, I know about the Gladys thing because I read it in Betty’s diary,” she admitted. “But only after Fred Andrews came to me with a  _ social worker _ in tow to see if I would take Jughead in. They wouldn’t let Fred keep him because of some  _ OUI _ he picked up after Mary left,” she elaborated. “The social worker thought that we were  _ upstanding citizens _ , or some shit.” Alice rolled her eyes. “Hal said he was willing...but I  _ couldn’t _ do that to you, to have your son raised by the two of us.” 

 

“I don’t understand why he was willing to take Jughead in when he was so willing to kick Polly out,” added. “Telling her to have an  _ abortion _ , then defaulting to her just  _ giving _ up the babies...but then he turns around and says that  _ Jughead _ could move in? I don’t know what he was planning, FP, but it was  _ nothing _ I wanted a part of.”

 

“I  _ like _ Jughead. I know that it seems that I don’t sometimes, and I’m sorry about that, but I do like him.”

 

“I thought that--I thought that Gladys had  _ been _ here,” he said, feeling somewhat nauseated. “That she’d just skipped town when I got out because she didn’t want to see  _ me _ . I mean, Jughead was  _ living _ in the trailer.”

 

“Yes, the foster family on the Southside ‘arranged things’ so that he could stay there and not with them,” Alice elaborated. “Take the money and not the kid, you know?”

 

FP Jones had never been more infuriated with Gladys Jones (and with everyone involved in the debacle that had been his arrest, imprisonment, and release, not to  _ mention _ what the  _ hell  _ they had done to Jughead) than he had been after Alice’s confession, and he struggled to maintain his composure. He realized that -- no matter how  _ angry _ he was -- he and Alice were in the  _ emergency room _ and Jughead could  _ die _ and he was on  _ parole _ and this was  _ so fucked up _ . Gladys had clearly written off their  _ entire _ family months before FP had thought she had. So who the hell did she think she was claiming  _ he _ was the issue?

 

“Who put up my bail, then?” He asked. He had been surprised when he’d thought Gladys had done so, of course, but he’d supposed she could have been fed up with dealing with Jug. “Do you know?”

 

Alice gazed up at him, a hesitant expression on her face, and she nodded minutely, before locking her gaze on her lap. “I did,” she said. “I had the money, you needed to get out. I couldn’t run the risk of one of those misguided  _ idiots _ our children call friends approaching someone like  _ Hiram Lodge _ in the hopes that he’d pop you. Archibald in particular is oblivious. I could see the future, Forsythe, and it was one I wanted to avoid.”

 

“Is that why --”

 

Alice scoffed. “Oh, don’t be foolish, FP,” she said. “Hal didn’t  _ know _ . It was frankly none of his business.”

 

“What happened, then?”

 

FP thought he had a right to know why Alice had managed to get herself strangled, because if he needed to, he would get an alibi right then and there and give the Black Hood (the world’s most ridiculous nickname, at least in his opinion, and the Serpents had members that went by names like Hog Eye, so that was saying something) a taste of his own medicine. If Alice had the right to bail him out of jail without telling him, surely this was a fair trade? She shook her head.

 

“I will tell you, FP. But not here,” she said, gesturing around. “I just want  _ some _ normality.” 

 

“When we get home, then,” he said. It wasn’t a question. “You’ll tell me when we get home.”

 

“Yeah,” she said. “I just…”

 

“I get it,” he said. “I don’t blame you. I just don’t want you to be in pain, okay?”

 

“I know.” 

 

“Red is really that stupid?” He asked, warily. He had known that Archie and Jughead had had a bit of a falling out, but he didn’t think it had been much more beyond Jughead being pissed off that Archie was dating the Lodge girl. He had known about Jughead’s hatred of Hiram Lodge, of course, that had been blatantly clear from the start, but he hadn’t known much beyond that. Was it bad that it didn’t really  _ surprise _ FP? He liked Archie, but he never thought he was much of a brain trust. “He really doesn’t see how  _ badly _ this will end?”   
  


“I blame myself, really,” Alice said, and she puffed up with pride, the smirk on her lips making the bruises less ominous. “‘You see, this whole business with Chic, and with Hal, and with my newfound involvement with the Southside, it appears that my supervision of Archibald took a dramatic hit, thus allowing him to be negatively influenced by  _ Hiram _ .” She smiled at him. “I think I’ll print an apology in the  _ Register _ .” 

 

“Wouldn’t it  _ be _ the length of the  _ Register _ ?” 

 

She swatted him playfully. “Someone needs to fill the missing space.”

 

“What do you mean by supervision?” 

 

“Well, some might call it  _ spying _ ,” Alice allowed. “But as a true investigative journalist…”

  
  


***

  
  


“Doesn’t it figure that he can’t do  _ anything _ right?” Alice asked, attempting to make light of the results of her examinations and scans, but mainly managing to sound bitter. “I had to spend hours in there getting poked and prodded and all he managed was bruising me and giving me this ridiculous sounding voice.” 

 

“That’s because he damaged some of your vocal chords,” FP pointed out, and she sighed, knowing that he was right. “Though I don’t know how well he did  _ that _ ,” he added. “You certainly managed to scream at that doctor.”

 

“I haven’t eaten, I got a little upset,” she said, curling up against him as they left the emergency room and headed back in the direction of the ICU. “It was only natural that he got to experience my rage.”

 

“You hungry?” He asked, pivoting on the spot, headed over to the vending machine in the corner, gesturing to it. The vending machine had probably been there since they were kids, and, while normally Alice would turn her nose up at it, she was hungry and she supposed she could live with eating questionable products from it. Part of her wanted to insist that she and FP get something substantial to eat, but she wanted to eat food from the hospital cafeteria even less. She might have been embracing her Southside history, but Alice really thought that the cafeteria food would give them something hideous, like  _ botulism _ . Or the plague. She wasn’t going to risk it. “Get whatever you want,” he directed. “My treat.”

 

She was about to protest, not wanting FP to waste his money on her, but she decided to let him, rationalizing that it was food from a vending machine and not them renting a room at the Five Seasons. 

 

“I’ll take a chocolate bar,” she said after a moment of deciding, pointing at the specific one that she wanted. “And...the cheese puffs,” she added. “I’ll take a coke, too, if you don’t mind?” She paused. “But you have to eat too,” she insisted. “You will do Jughead no good if you pass out from hunger.”

 

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, and he squeezed her hand. “I’m a big boy, I’ll eat.”

 

“I’ve spent the past 25 years worrying about you,” she admitted. “I tried to stop, but I’ve never been able to.”

 

“Alright, Al,” he said. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll eat.” 

 

The Serpents that had been in the waiting room at the ICU when she’d arrived previously had dwindled noticeably, and she took in the expression on FP’s face (it was definitely  _ not _ a calm, relaxed, happy, expression) as he too surveyed the room. There  _ were _ some familiar faces there, Alice noted, besides Cheryl and Toni. Fred Andrews had shown up at some point during her horrible evening, and, for once in her life, Alice offered him a smile that wasn’t forced, but, rather, genuine. She was relieved that he was both alive, and still willing to come out and sit vigil for Jughead, given the current tensions around the situation. Sitting with him was Archie, whom Alice noted was looking several shades paler than usual, and  _ that girl _ . FP stiffened beside her as he followed her gaze, and she wrapped her arm around his waist, burrowing closer against him. She didn’t care if it ruined the last bit of street cred she had, she wasn’t going to not comfort FP because of the presence of Elizabeth’s  _ friends _ . Leaving aside the Lodge girl (whom she noticed was crying), she noticed that Tom’s son and the giant jock who had dated Midge ( _ another _ person Alice needed to apologize to) were holding hands as they sat beside each other. Though Alice observed, she elected not to say anything. It really wasn’t her business. 

 

Cheryl approached. 

 

“I’m fine,” she assured her, not wanting to move away from FP, but allowing the redhead to take her hand. “Just some slight damage to my vocal chords, but it will go away.” She cleared her throat. “Where is everyone?”   
  


Cheryl gazed at them with big, wide, eyes, an effect that FP would probably fall for but that Alice would decidedly  _ not _ . She had been the girl with big, wide, eyes once before, and she was certainly not falling for tricks out of her own book. 

 

“Toni and I  _ tried _ to stop them,” she said, wringing her hands together. “They decided to avenge Jughead...and Sunnyside...they said the previous vote stood.”

 

“What does that mean?” She asked, her tone polite, aiming for the subtler effect of inquiring Alice Cooper, versus fire-and-brimstone Alice Cooper. “Cheryl?”

 

“I don’t  _ know _ , Cousin Alice,” she insisted. “Toni and I stayed here, in case Jughead woke up. She said it was safer for me.”

 

“Which it  _ was _ ,” Alice stressed. “What was the earlier vote, though?”

 

“That we’d go to war against the Ghoulies,” FP supplied, sounding every bit the recalcitrant child she thought he was half of the time, which was why she managed to bite back a sigh and look Heavenward in lieu of glaring at him. No one couldn’t say Alice wasn’t without mercy. 

 

“You know that was a  _ terrible _ idea, right? Darling?”   
  


“Yes, I know that,” he said. “Look,  _ I  _ didn’t want to do it, but everyone else voted  _ yes _ , Alice, what else could I do? You  _ know _ that they wouldn’t have listened to me pointing out that fighting the Ghoulies was what  _ certain people _ ,” she felt certain that FP’s pause was because he was glaring at Veronica, “had planned to have happen all along.”

 

“She told Jughead it would be all over if he sacrificed himself,” Toni chimed in. “He believed her. That was obviously a lie.”

 

“Yes, I think we can all agree on that,” she agreed, trodding lightly on FP’s boot in an attempt to get him to stop murdering Veronica Lodge with his eyes. “Would the two of you like to go check on Jughead for us?” 

 

“Anything for my cousin,” Cheryl said, flashing a winning smile at her. “And Mr. Jones, of course.”

 

Cheryl and Toni now occupied, and the rest of the room thoroughly distracted from the presence of two adults (Fred Andrews had fallen soundly asleep, which Kevin and Moose were taking advantage of, while Archie seemed to be comforting a sobbing, hysterical, Veronica), Alice turned her attention to FP, dragging him over to an unoccupied corner of the waiting room. 

 

“You are doing what you hate people doing,” she informed him, matter-of-factly, taking a delicate bite out of her candy bar. “I know that you hate Hermione and Hiram,” she whispered. “I get it. But you can’t be taking your feelings out about them on Veronica. She most likely had nothing to do with this.” She took another bite. “You hate when people judge Jughead because of who his parents are, don’t you?”   
  
FP nodded. “Yeah, of course. He’s a good kid.”

 

“So, don’t you think that it’s  _ possible _ that Veronica is a good kid as well?” She queried, hands on her hips. “What about Polly and Elizabeth? Should they be judged on my sins? On Hal’s?”

 

“No, of course not,” he said. 

 

“They’re going to be,” she muttered. “Every damn day of their lives. Even if I try to stop it.” She sighed. “I get that you’re angry, Jonesy. I get it. But it’s not her fault.”

 

She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. She didn’t really care who saw. She was tired of secrets, and lies, and she was  _ not _ ashamed to be seen kissing FP.

 

“No one calls me that anymore,” he said, before drawing her into another kiss. “But you’ve always done what you want, Al. So, go ahead.”


	3. we look pretty happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin Keller was dying of boredom, and maybe it was wrong to both use that phrase and admit to feeling that way in what was becoming a literal den of death, but he couldn’t help listening in on the conversation that Mr. Jones and Mrs. Cooper were having in the opposite corner. There was nothing more attention seeking in Kevin’s mind than Mrs. Cooper attempting to have a conversation discreetly, and, well, first he had heard his father’s name, and then his, well, it would have been a crime not to turn an ear in their direction. He didn’t care if Mr. Jones had issues with his dad, but he was curious about the fact that Betty’s mother had brought up Joaquin. How did she even know about him?

“You’re right,” Alice said simply. “I have always done what I wanted. I just wish doing what I wanted wasn’t filled with so many regrets.”

 

“We all have regrets,” he responded. “It’s one of the things we Southsiders have in common with the North.” She felt him press his lips to her forehead. “You really don’t think Veronica is evil?  _ You? _ ”

 

She snickered. “Oh, sure, I’m not fond of the girl,” she allowed. “But she’s Betty’s friend and she is not her parents, FP. She’s not her mother and she’s definitely not her father.”

 

“It would be pretty hard to be her father,” he said. “But what about Red? How could Fred let that happen?”

 

“Fred is in charge of a group of teenagers and managed to fall soundly asleep,” she said, gesturing in the direction of the man in question. “Don’t you think it’s possible that he either doesn’t know the extent of Archie’s involvement or how to fix it? He’s never been able to resist Hermione.”

 

“We should go talk to them, shouldn’t we?” He asked, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, like it or not, they’re his family, I guess.” He sighed. “You might need to help me so I don’t accidentally have Tom Keller put a hit out for me because I said the wrong thing to his son.”   
  
“It would be the right thing to do,” she agreed. “Kevin is a nice boy, FP,” she chided. “A good friend to Elizabeth.” She raised an eyebrow. “And  _ might _ I remind you that you  _ set up him and one of the Serpents _ not so long ago.” 

 

Kevin Keller was dying of boredom, and maybe it was wrong to both use that phrase and admit to feeling that way in what was becoming a literal den of death, but he couldn’t help listening in on the conversation that Mr. Jones and Mrs. Cooper were having in the opposite corner. There was nothing more attention seeking in Kevin’s mind than Mrs. Cooper attempting to have a conversation discreetly, and, well, first he had heard his father’s name, and then  _ his _ , well, it would have been a crime not to turn an ear in their direction. He didn’t care if Mr. Jones had issues with his dad, but he was curious about the fact that Betty’s mother had brought up Joaquin. How did she even know about him? 

 

“You only know about that because you  _ saw us talking _ when you spied on Jughead’s birthday party,” he retorted. “And setting up is a  _ strong _ term, Alice. I merely...encouraged it. You didn’t tell Keller!”   
  


Were Jughead and Betty’s father and mother  _ flirting _ ? Kevin felt like grabbing some popcorn and watching the delicious dose of potential gossip that was unfolding in front of an audience that was  _ definitely  _ not giving it the respect it deserved. It  _ was  _ a bit hurtful to hear the fact that Joaquin had been told to date him as a ploy to garner information on Jason Blossom’s murder, but, if he was honest with himself, it wasn’t like he hadn’t already known. 

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, and Kevin’s eyes widened as he realized the two were  _ holding hands _ . “I don’t have time to discuss Kevin’s dating life with Tom Keller. Honestly,  _ who _ has the upper hand in that relationship? Me, or him?”   
  


“You have the upper hand in  _ most _ things, Al,” he said. “Alright, fine. The children are not their parents and I shouldn’t treat them like they’re evil?”

 

“Definitely not!” She said. “These are Jughead’s friends. They’ve stayed here all night to check on him.” 

 

“Can I treat Red like he’s evil?”

 

His eyes widened, wondering why on earth Mr. Jones thought that Archie Andrews, the All American boy with the awesome abs, was  _ evil _ . Was it because of his admittedly strange behavior as of late? He wanted to interrupt the conversation to ask, especially when Mrs. Cooper seemed to consider the question with actual thought, but thought better of it when he remembered that this was  _ Alice Cooper _ he was spying on, and, though Hal Cooper had never really  _ frightened _ Kevin (he’d thought of the man of a human version of Snorlax, if he was honest with himself), Alice Cooper  _ terrified  _ him. All it would take was one wrong move and his picture would be slapped on the face of the  _ Riverdale Register _ , he was sure of it. 

 

Which was why the behavior he was observing from his best friend’s mother was so  _ strange _ . The Coopers had always been very reserved around each other, rarely showing each other much affection, seeming to reserve their affections for Betty and Polly. And, there was Alice Cooper  _ cuddling _ up to FP Jones, seeming to not care who spotted them. Not that anyone besides Kevin was paying the twosome much attention. Moose was engrossed in playing a game on his phone, while Mr. Andrews was soundly asleep, his loud snores punctuating Veronica’s sobs. Archie was attempting to comfort the latter, though it seemed to have no effect. Kevin was bored, truthfully.

 

He had been hoping that Joaquin would be there.

 

He supposed it would be acceptable to interrupt their conversation to ask where Joaquin  _ was _ , wouldn’t it? If Moose wouldn’t hold hands with him because there were  _ people  _ there, why shouldn’t he be allowed to see his ex-boyfriend?

 

“Why is he hugging the turncoat?” Kevin heard a familiar voice ask, and he glanced upwards to see if it was really Joaquin. It was.

 

“I think they’re  _ together _ ,” he supplied, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m not sure she  _ is _ a turncoat anymore,” he added. “She apologized to the rest of you.” He gazed at Joaquin. “You would know that, if you were here.”

 

Kevin doesn’t know why he’s defending Alice Cooper. She certainly doesn’t deserve it. But things have changed over the past year, and the past 24 hours. Alice’s husband is plastered on the television in the waiting room, the sound mercifully turned off but the captions on the screen were proving to be rather damming. The picture they have chosen to display is one of the Cooper family, the four of them, staring at the camera with Stepford Smiles. “Love, The Coopers”, written across the front, as if the newstation had been presented with the Coopers  _ literal _ Christmas card. He would know. He’d received one.

 

“Excuse me,” he said to Joaquin, sensing that Mrs. Cooper (who was indeed being hugged by the Serpent King) was unaware that her face, and that of her daughters, was being smeared all over the local news. “I’ll just be a minute. Sit.”

 

He approached the twosome cautiously, watching the television with one eye as he did. 

 

“Mrs…” Kevin trailed off. He didn’t think the older woman wanted to be referred to as ‘Mrs. Cooper’ as various photos of the Cooper family were displayed on the screen. “You might want to look at the television.”


	4. there's a women crying out tonight, her world has changed, she asks god why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mr. Lodge? Mr. Lodge?” She questioned. “What did he say, Archie? That he would make things ‘go away’?” Archie nodded. “That didn’t raise any alarm bells with you? Your girlfriend’s don of a father says he can make things go away, and you think that just means you two won’t engage in public together anymore? I knew that you could be naive, Archibald, I didn’t think it extended to being suicidal.”

“What?” Alice asked, rather distracted by Kevin’s sudden appearance, the lack of sleep and her crashing adrenaline doing nothing to ease her confusion. “Why on earth would I want to look at the  _ television _ , Kevin? FP and I are  _ talking _ ,” she stressed. “I don’t have the energy to focus on whatever television show it is you think I need to watch.” 

 

“It’s not a television show,” Kevin replied, his tone hedging, and she wanted to glare at him. “Seriously, Mrs. Cooper,  _ look at the television _ .” 

 

“Is that  _ you _ ?” Random Serpent boy that Alice had never interacted with directly asked. “You’re  _ really _ married to a  _ serial killer _ ?” His tone was a rather flippant one, and Alice stared, wanting to lecture the interloper but seething silently instead. “Maybe being a turncoat isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”   
  


Maybe it was the fact that she was being paraded around on the local news as some sort of insidious being (when in reality she had spent over four hours in the ER getting looked over for all  _ sorts _ of terrible things that she was  _ lucky _ Hal hadn’t done to her), and maybe it was the fact that her daughters -- who by no faults of their own  _ happened _ to be fathered by Hal, and  _ happened  _ to be in the photograph that Alice had sent out that Christmas, determined to maintain her facade of having a normal, functioning, family -- were  _ also _ being smeared on the newscast. (God, no  _ wonder _ why Polly barely spoke to her and never bothered to come visit with the twins, or even send her her address, she was a  _ horrible  _ mother.) Maybe it was because Alice was exhausted, and was tired of being used as various people’s punching bags, especially when they were equally culpable of being  _ turncoats _ . 

 

Alice had gotten arrested on behalf of FP, and she would do it again if she had to. She was _ nothing _ like Joaquin who had skipped town and left his boyfriend and FP to potentially take a very dramatically large fall. 

 

And she had  _ atoned _ for her sins, for her deflection. Just because Joaquin hadn’t heard it didn’t make it less true. 

 

Which was why Alice soon to no longer be Cooper opened her mouth.

 

“I beg your pardon?” Alice said, her tone icy. “How  _ dare _ you accuse  _ me _ of being a turncoat when  _ you _ wandered off in the middle of the night to  _ who knows where _ while FP rotted in a prison cell? Wasn’t he your  _ King _ ? Shouldn’t you have stuck around so he had a snowball’s chance in  _ hell _ of defending himself?” 

 

“Al--”

 

“ _ NO _ , FP,” she said. “I get that he’s a kid, or  _ whatever _ , but you can’t blame me for finding his opinion of me to be hypocritical. Yes, I did marry Hal to get out of the Southside,” she said, gesturing to the television. “And, yes, as our friend Joaquin noted, it appears he is a  _ serial killer _ . This may come as a surprise to everyone here, but the two events were amazingly enough  _ not connected _ . I didn’t wake up one day at Sunnyside and think, oh, today I want to marry a  _ murderer _ . And, by the way, if I’m a turncoat, you’re one too. I know you left Kevin and FP here to take the fall for you. Kevin is  _ lucky _ I kept my mouth shut and no one else told anyone about his  _ mysteriously missing _ Serpent boyfriend.” She shook her head. “You could have made Kevin an accessory to a  _ crime _ ,” she said. “Did you even care?”

 

Alice belatedly realized that she was speaking rather loudly, though, to Fred’s credit, he was still soundly asleep. Unfortunately for the tiny bit of pride she had left, the rest of Betty’s friends were staring at her and Joaquin. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands, before deciding that it was better that  _ she  _ be humiliated than Betty or Polly, which was what she feared would happen if anyone else saw the news. 

 

“Alice…”

 

“It’s  _ fine _ , FP,” she said. “He’s only saying what he thinks, so I think it’s fair that I do the same. Why bother pretending that I’m fine, or that everything is going to be normal ever again?” 

 

“Mrs. Cooper,” Kevin interjected. “I really don’t think that Joaquin--”   
  
“ _ Stop _ calling me that, Keller,” she demanded. The rational side of Alice (rather the side that was screaming about being an adult and propriety, there was really no  _ actually  _ rational side of Alice) was currently being overruled by her  _ irrational  _ side. “Hal tried to  _ kill _ me, okay? I’m  _ not _ Mrs. Cooper anymore.” And, with that, she stalked away, any  _ trace  _ of the good mood that FP had managed to put her in gone.

 

She wasn’t entirely aware of  _ where _ she was going, all she knew was that she  _ needed _ to get away, before she lost the entirety of her sense of composure and completely  _ humiliated  _ herself around all those  _ people _ , including FP. Okay, truthfully? FP was the  _ only _ one that she didn’t want to humiliate herself around. And all she had done since he’d gotten out of prison was effectively ruin his life at  _ every _ turn. 

 

She hesitated at the entrance to the hospital chapel,  _ wanting _ to go into the consecrated space. Wanting to  _ want _ to go in. Hal had been  _ insistent _ about church, wanting them to go  _ every Sunday _ , only allowing Elizabeth and Polly to go to Riverdale public schools because he hadn’t wanted the faces of the  _ Register _ appearing to be elitists. Alice had gone along with it. It had seemed reasonable. People  _ went _ to church, after all. Especially on the Northside. She’d wanted to fit in. It hadn’t been a battle she’d wanted to fight. 

 

Faced with the chapel, now, though, she was reminded of the  _ Sisters _ , and of the baby she’d given up (and managed to  _ get killed _ ), and of the fact that she’d allowed Hal to convince her to send Polly there, even knowing what they were capable of doing. The church wasn’t a refuge for Alice. Especially given what he had done. 

 

She sank to the corridor floor, unabashedly weeping, not even caring if anyone saw her. 

 

“Mr. Jones is dealing with Joaquin,” a feminine voice said, and she heard the owner of the voice sit down beside her. “You should talk to my lawyer,” she continued. “Not about Joaquin, of course, but maybe she could do something about what people are saying about you, and about Betty and Polly.”   
  


Alice was sort of tempted, but she roughly shook her head. “No,” she said, coughing loudly. “I can’t take your Mafioso legal team. I’m sorry, I won’t do that.”

 

“I meant, Sierra McCoy,” Veronica said. “She has  _ nothing _ to do with my parents.”

 

“You hired  _ Sierra McCoy _ as your lawyer?” 

 

“Yes,” she said, her tone quiet. Subdued. Alice wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie before giving Veronica Lodge an appraising look. “I know that my parents are bad people. I’m scared of what they can do. What they  _ will _ do.”

 

“I never wanted your father to own the Register,” she admitted. “But, Veronica...are  _ you _ safe?”

 

“It’s not me you should be worried about,” she said. “You really shouldn’t worry about  _ any of us _ , but the one that I’m most concerned about is Archiekins.”

 

“What did that  _ idiot _ do?” 

 

Alice thought that Veronica would take offense to her beloved boyfriend being called an idiot, but the brunette merely nodded in agreement. 

 

“He made a blood promise with my father.”

 

Alice’s (whose husband had just been outed as the Black Hood, mind you, and had a feeling she didn’t  _ need _ to spend her day filled with shock) eyes widened, and she blinked rapidly, trying to understand how on earth Archie Andrews had gotten to be so stupid. She thought there was a possibility that she had misheard Veronica Lodge. Yes. That was it. She had misunderstood the girl. It had been a long day, she was confused, she needed to sleep, and she was hallucinating. That had to be the only explanation. 

 

“Beg pardon?”

 

“He made a blood promise with Daddykins,” she said lowly, fingering the strand of pearls she wore around her neck as she did. “And now he thinks that he can get out of it.”

 

“I see.” 

 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know that you’re dealing with a lot now. I just...wanted someone that was in a position to help to do something.”   
  
“What are you talking about?”

 

“Hal sold the Register to my dad without involving you, didn’t he? You didn’t sell your ownership?”

 

“I did not, that’s correct,” she said. Hiram had tried his hardest to get Alice to sell her half of the paper to him and his sham of a company, but she had held firm. She hadn’t clawed her way out of the Southside to be manipulated by  _ Hiram Lodge _ . Alice wasn’t a stupid person, and she did not tend to default to seeing the good in everyone, choosing instead to appear cold and aloof to the rest of the world. It was how she protected herself. 

 

“Ms. McCoy could probably get the part my dad owns back,” Veronica mused. “Wouldn’t that be worth a shot?”   
  
“I suppose,” she allowed. “The bigger issue is that Archibald has yet again delved into  _ beyond _ foolish behavior. A  _ blood promise _ with Hiram Lodge??? What is  _ wrong _ with that boy?” She realized (belatedly) that she was talking to Veronica Lodge, Hiram’s  _ daughter _ , but, much to her surprise, Veronica was nodding, as if she agreed.

 

“I think he thought it would help his dad,” she explained. “At least, I’m pretty sure that’s how my dad convinced him to do it.”

 

Alice bit back a heavy sigh, motioning for Veronica to be quiet, as she heard footsteps coming in their direction. She didn’t know if they were being watched, or if the person approaching was an enemy, or a friend. 

 

If she was honest, she barely knew anything about anyone anymore.

 

“Hi, Mr. Jones,” Veronica said. “I found her.”

 

“I see that,” FP replied, his gaze confused. “Why are the two of you on the ground?”

 

“It’s stupid,” she said. “I can’t go in there.” 

 

Veronica nodded. “Yeah, neither can I. It feels... _ wrong _ .”

 

“I’m sure it’s not stupid,” he told them. “Come on. Jug’s awake, I want you to see him with me.”

 

“Both of us?” Veronica asked. “Are you sure?”   
  


FP sighed. “Yeah, Alice said that you were Jughead’s friend and I shouldn’t blame you for what your parents have done,” he said. “I wouldn’t not want you to see him or anything.”

  
  


***

  
  


Jughead was, indeed, awake, though the definition of the term was definitely being stretched by the boy in the hospital bed. Poor Jughead was surrounded by  _ everyone _ that had been in the waiting room when she’d left, minus Joaquin and with the addition of that Sweet Pea person, and Alice took one look at the boy and the look on his face, and decided to stop wallowing in her feelings, and take charge. FP was  _ trying _ , bless him, but she sensed that the addition of several traumatized teenagers was the exact opposite of beneficial to Jughead in his current state.

 

Well, in  _ any _ state, she corrected. It was Jughead she was talking about. He was not known for loving socialization, even if he was not in a hospital bed in pain and hooked up to all sorts of machines.

 

“What are you all doing?” She demanded. “I understand that you are all worried about Jughead, but,  _ give the boy some space _ ! Were you all raised in barns? Two at a time,” she commanded. “You figure out an order amongst yourselves in the  _ corridor _ , while FP gets to spend a few minutes alone with him.” She eyed her daughter. “That goes for you, too, Betty,” she said softly. “I know you’re worried, but everyone gets a chance to see him, okay?”

 

Alice entered the room, glowering at the teenagers (and Fred Andrews) until they dispersed. The only one that she wasn’t irritated with was Veronica, who had had the good sense to not just  _ burst _ into Jughead’s room. 

 

Jughead gave her a grateful look, and she instinctively leaned over and pressed a motherly kiss on his forehead. “I’m glad you’re awake,” she said, sincerely. “I care about you, and your dad.”

 

Alice didn’t admit that she was worried, because she felt it went without saying, and she stepped out of the room, wanting to give the two Jones men some time to themselves. 

 

“Archibald,” she said, spotting her latest victim sitting with Fred, and with Betty and Veronica. “I believe we need to have a conversation.”

 

“Is now really an appropriate time, Alice?” Fred asked. 

 

“The appropriate time would have been  _ before _ the event occured, you’re right, Fred,” she said, dropping her haughty tone, faced with the man her husband tried to kill. “Unfortunately, my supervision of Archibald has been rather lax lately, so I was only made aware of his  _ display of stupidity _ after the damage was already done.”

 

“Are you talking about that graffiti?” Archie said, crossing his arms. “Because you’ll have to get mad at  _ all  _ the Bulldogs for  _ that _ . I wasn’t the only one!”

 

“Graffiti?!”

 

“I’m not mad at you!” Alice interjected, placing herself in between the two Andrews’ men. “Fred, you can deal with the graffiti admission later,” she said. “I have heard from an anonymous source that in an effort to protect  _ you _ , your child has involved himself with the  _ Mafia _ .”

 

“What are you talking about? You don’t actually think dating Veronica means Archie is dallying with the Mafia, Alice. That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Why on  _ earth _ would you think that? She’s a teenager!”

 

“Don’t be an idiot, Fred,” she said. “You’re not stupid. I know you’re not.” She sighed. “My source told me that your son made a blood pact with  _ El Capo _ of the Pembrooke.”

 

Fred visibly paled. “ _ What _ ? Are you sure?”

 

“It’s not a big deal,” Archie said. “I can get out of it.”

 

“No, you  _ can’t _ ,” Alice said. “It’s a  _ blood pact _ , Archie, not a  _ pinky promise _ . This isn’t telling Elizabeth that the two of you will get married when you’re eighteen if you’re still single! This is an unmitigated disaster, young man.”

 

“But, Mr. Lodge --”

 

Alice shot a pleading look at Betty, who mercifully took the hint and tookVeronica by the hand, leading her away from Alice and the Andrews’. 

 

“Mr. Lodge? Mr. Lodge?” She questioned. “What did he say, Archie? That he would make things ‘go away’?” Archie nodded. “That didn’t raise any alarm bells with you? Your girlfriend’s don of a father says he can make things go away, and you think that just means you two won’t engage in public together anymore? I knew that you could be naive, Archibald, I didn’t think it extended to being suicidal.”

 

“You can’t name your source?”

 

“No, Fred, I can’t. I’m a  _ journalist _ . I respect the need to maintain anonymity. Especially when revealing my sources means  _ they _ could get hurt, too.”

 

“She’s not lying, Dad,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know how she found out, since Betty doesn’t know, but Mr. Lodge and I did make a blood promise to each other. He told me it wasn’t that big a deal. People make promises all the time.”

 

“Listen to me,” she said. “Your father sees the best in people, I, however, do not. Your father seems to think that Hermione Lodge is capable of being redeemed, even though I keep having to personally  _ veto _ a sophomoric piece of journalism entitled “October Surprise”, which, in spite of the name, is not an exciting tale about flannel shirts and hot cider!” She shook her head. “Despite this, I thought even  _ you _ would have the common sense to not  _ act so unbelievably stupid _ . Are you  _ blind _ ? You’re putting everyone in danger. Everyone you supposedly care about. FP thought that Veronica had something to do with Jughead being attacked, but I think it was a warning for  _ you _ .” 

 

“He’s in a gang--”   
  


“Don’t you even  _ dare _ . The Serpents are not the issue, here. I won’t have you trying to blame them for this.” 

 

She tugged the leather jacket she had on tighter around her frame, noticing it still smelled like FP. 

 

“Alice is right,” Fred said, regaining the power of speech. “This behavior of yours is getting ridiculous, and this particular stunt could have put others in danger. People we care about.”

 

“I don’t care if you date Veronica,” she said. “I don’t care if Betty and Veronica are friends. I just can’t believe you would be so reckless.”

 

“He said he’d protect my dad.”   
  


“That’s noble, Archibald, but it’s not an excuse. Not to mention, it didn’t even work, given that the  _ other _ Black Hood managed to  _ shoot him again _ .” She turned to Fred. “Fred, I am so sorry about Hal,” she blurted. “I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me.”

 

“I know you are,” he told her. “It’s not your fault. I don’t even know what I’m going to do…”

 

“You need Tom Keller,” she said softly. “And...probably my connection at the Morgue, Dr. Curdle. I’ll...deal with that.” Archie opened his mouth. “If you are about to claim that we are overreacting,” she said. “It will be the  _ last _ thing you do.”

  
  



	5. and the truth came out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you texting your sister?” Alice demanded, her tone hushed. “You can’t seriously want to send Archie to that ridiculous farm, Elizabeth. That’s a cult, for Heaven’s sake.”

“Do I  _ want _ to know what you said to Red and Fred?” FP asked Alice warily, after Alice had sent everyone but herself and Betty home, and he was finally able to speak to her about the conversation he had heard bits and pieces of from Jughead’s hospital room. “What happened to being respectful?”

 

“You know how you found Veronica and me together?” She asked. “Well, before you showed up, she told me something  _ very interesting _ . Apparently Archibald has decided to actively involve himself in the  _ dealings  _ of his girlfriend’s parents.” She rolled her eyes. “And I don’t mean low level things like the Serpents may have done over the years,” she added. “I mean along the lines of blood promises, like we’re on  _ bad daytime television _ .” 

 

“Blood promises?” Betty interjected. “What are you  _ talking _ about, Mom? That makes them sound  _ criminal _ .”

 

“Of course it does,” she said, her tone soothing. “Because that’s what they  _ are _ . Maybe Veronica isn’t,” she allowed. “Hiram Lodge is  _ definitely _ a criminal. Hermione probably has Stockholm Syndrome, or something, but that doesn’t recuse her for  _ what she’s done _ .” 

 

“So, to answer your question, I was informing Fred Andrews about his son’s dirty little secret, and correcting his narrative on  _ innocent, helpless,  _ Hermione, FP,” she told him. “Who, by the way, has been trying to publish a  _ terribly _ written article about her and Fred’s little  _ dalliance _ in the Register for  _ months _ in an attempt to discredit him.”

 

“Mrs. Lodge  _ did that _ ?” Betty asked, her eyes wide. 

 

“Yes, Elizabeth,” she replied. “I would like to state that while I may have published pieces that  _ derided  _ the Southside, and the Serpents, never in my career did I start publishing personal, specific attacks, or naming specific names. And I certainly didn’t involve my daughters’ friends in dangerous plots that  _ will get them killed _ . Do you think Hiram is going to let that blood promise go?” 

 

FP (who didn’t really understand what a blood promise specifically was, only that Alice seemed to think it was worthy of bringing up at the end of a day filled with increasingly terrible things) decided that, for the sake of Alice’s blood pressure, the answer he would go with was ‘no’. It  _ had _ to be no, he decided, because why  _ else _ would Lodge have picked Jughead to target, when he could have picked FP? At the time of the attack, he had assumed that it was Penny’s domain, that Lodge had serendipitously stumbled upon, but with the additional information, he wasn’t sure.

 

“What are you doing?” He asked Betty, who had pulled out her phone and was furiously texting someone. “Who are you talking to?”

 

“Someone that can  _ help _ ,” she replied, her brow furrowed. “She needs to come here anyways, doesn’t she? After what Dad did?”

 

“Are you  _ texting your sister _ ?” Alice demanded, her tone hushed. “You can’t seriously want to send Archie to that  _ ridiculous farm _ , Elizabeth. That’s a  _ cult _ , for Heaven’s sake.”

 

“It’s not the  _ worst _ idea, Alice,” he said, placing an arm around her, wondering just  _ how _ out of it he’d been before he’d gotten clean in jail to have missed Polly Cooper being involved in a cult. “At the very least it would get him out of our hair.” 

 

“And into the hands of a  _ cult _ ,” she stressed. “A cult which already has my  _ daughter _ in a stranglehold. Haven’t we already established Archibald lacks that part of him that doesn’t  _ directly lead to him behaving stupidly _ ?”

 

“I know,” he admitted. “Look, it’s late, okay? Polly needs to know about what your... _ Hal _ did, okay? Why shouldn’t Betty text her and tell her? And then, maybe we should go back to yours? Or sleep here? You need to sleep, Alice. We all do.”

 

“I don’t want to go home,” she admitted quietly. “You didn’t see it, FP, it was like a  _ lynch mob _ . The news was there. All these people.”

 

“Then we’ll stay here for the night,” he decided. “It’s a little unorthodox, but…”

 

“Thank you,” she whispered, and she buried her face against his chest. “You can be here for Jughead, and I can...be there for you. And for Elizabeth.” 

 

As a kindness, FP did not add ‘and not sleeping in the bed I shared with a serial killer’ to Alice’s statement. 

 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “That’s what we’ll do for tonight.”

 

“Tomorrow, you’ll go with me?” She asked, eying him hopefully. “I  _ can’t _ do it alone, I’m not strong enough.”

 

“Of course,” he said. “You’ll have to give me a tour of my new digs.”

 

“I will,” she said, stifling a yawn, and she slipped off her Serpents jacket, neatly hanging it over the back of a chair. “Come on, Elizabeth,” she commanded. “Bedtime. Polly will be there to ignore you tomorrow.”

  
  


***   
  


 

Betty Cooper had gone to bed seething about her mother’s comment about Polly being there to ignore her tomorrow, but, as she slowly woke for the day, curled up in one of the visitor chairs at Jughead’s bedside, a quick glance at her phone showed that the biting comment was proving to be true. She bit back a groan, taking note of her still sleeping mother. She didn’t want to wake Alice up and hear a million I-told-you-sos, at least, not until she absolutely could not avoid them. FP, on the other hand, seemed to be awake, and she offered him a polite smile, trying to pretend that waking up to find her boyfriend’s dad and her mom in an embrace wasn’t the most awkward sight she had ever seen. It  _ was _ awkward, of course, but she wasn’t going to fault Alice and FP for finding comfort in each other. 

 

“Do you want something to eat?” She found herself asking FP, rationalizing it as a good course of action. She could go out and grab the foursome (herself, Jughead if he woke up, and Alice and FP) something to eat that was actually edible, and give the twosome some (Betty shuddered a bit at the thought)  _ alone time _ . Not that she thought that they were going to get up to anything while Jughead was sleeping in the same room as them, but Betty still remembered how Alice had admitted to stepping out on her marriage to Hal with the other man. More specifically, she remembered the comment about FP being more of a man. This was something that Betty had  _ never _ wanted to know about her boyfriend’s dad, and, yet, thanks to her mother, she was painfully aware. 

 

“From the cafeteria?” FP asked her, briefly glancing down at Alice, who was now snoring. “You think…”   
  
“No, I was going to drive to Pops,” she said. “I think if my mother is ever willing to eat hospital cafeteria food, you’ll need to have them commit her.”

 

“Okay,” he said. “Just...let me know if anyone gives you any trouble?”   
  


Betty nodded in agreement, shouldering her bag before reaching into Alice’s jacket pocket to produce the keys to her station wagon. 

 

“I’ll be back,” she said. “You should talk to her.”

 

She might not have been thrilled with Alice and FP dating, but she knew that her mother needed someone that genuinely loved her for her in her corner, and if that person was FP Jones...well, Betty would accept that, even if it made her cringe somewhat. She was sure she’d get used to it.

 

She texted Polly again.

  
  
  



	6. her two kids, in high school

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, these are your cousins,” Toni said, eying a photograph of Betty Cooper and a slightly older girl, who had to be Polly Cooper. The photo looked like it had been enlarged from another photograph, one with others in it, and she wondered what the story was behind that.
> 
>  
> 
> Oh, right. Probably that whole my-husband-was-the-man-terrorizing-the-town-and-killing-people thing. Toni wasn’t really surprised. She had figured out after FP’s comment that the now-incarcerated Mr. Cooper had been the one with Blossom blood, and, well...Toni thought the majority of Cheryl’s family was crazy as could be.

Time moved on. 

 

Jughead had been moved from the hospital to a rehabilitation center facility, which of course wasn’t covered by insurance, but Alice had convinced FP to allow her to pay for it, pointing out that Jughead needed to return to full strength somewhere, and it may as well be somewhere safe, where he couldn’t be ridiculously noble at the expense of his recovery. Polly had yet to return contact with  _ anyone _ (Alice wished that she could say she was surprised, but, well, was she  _ really _ ?) which she was troubled with because Polly’s lack of response was clearly hurting Elizabeth. Sure, she  _ pretended _ it wasn’t affecting her (if only Elizabeth wasn’t the worst liar Alice knew), and Alice allowed her to do so, but she was growing more and more annoyed with Polly. How  _ dare _ she ignore her sister, when Betty had done  _ nothing _ to deserve it? Alice was fine with Polly punishing her with the silent treatment, but she wasn’t thrilled that it had been extended to Betty. 

 

Alice was refusing to enter the Register’s office, preferring to do what work she had to do to maintain the paper in a state to be read at home, not wanting to potentially associate with Hiram or Hermione Lodge. Sierra McCoy was willing to work with her to get her divorce finalized and hopefully dissolve the partnership that Hal had forged without her permission, which Alice was grateful for, but it didn’t change the fact that if she saw either Lodge, she wanted to punch them both in the face.

 

The Register --  _ her paper _ \-- had taken great delight in plastering the news that Alice and FP were living together all over its front pages, and she would have been tempted to sue it for libel, except she would have been suing herself. It was sort of amusing, anyways. And it wasn’t like the basic facts weren’t true -- she and FP  _ were _ living together. 

 

She, FP, Elizabeth, and about half of the needing to be rehomed Serpents, most of whom were teenagers. Alice wasn’t  _ entirely _ certain of all the details, she had been told them, but, honestly, all she’d needed to hear was ‘Hiram Lodge’ and ‘The Whyte Wyrm’ and ‘all of them living with Fred’ and she’d  _ needed _ to put a stop to  _ that _ insanity. Alice didn’t know if Fred was trying to inadvertently have the teenage Serpents as protection for Archie (she supposed if he was it was at least vaguely intelligent, she could be proud, though she  _ did _ disapprove of recruiting teenagers to protect someone who had angered Riverdale’s own John Gotti), but she did know that Fred’s house wasn’t equipped to handle over 20 new additions. Nor, she suspected, was his grocery budget. 

 

So, like an avenging blonde angel of doom, Alice had stalked over to the house across the street and, before she knew what she was doing, she had invited more of her past into the house she had tried to forget it in. 

 

It  _ did _ warm her soul that Archibald had made himself scarce when he had seen her darken his doorstep. Sure her life as she’d known it was in shambles, but she could still induce fear into the hearts of men. It really was comforting. 

 

Having the Serpents there was nice, she allowed. Hal would have never allowed them to seek refuge, so it was like a giant fuck you to him, and having the presence of others in the house was allowing her to be forced to function, rather than wallowing in herself and sinking into a self destructive depression.    
  
She heard the front door open, and she glanced over in its direction, surprised that FP was standing there. She had been certain that he would be at work the entire morning.

 

“What happened?” She asked, and she crossed the room to where he was standing, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a kiss on the lips. “You’re home early.”   
  


“I got fired,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Shocking how Hiram doesn’t want me around anymore.” 

 

“Hiram Lodge  _ fired you _ ?” Alice parroted. “For doing  _ what _ ? You’ve been responsible, you’ve stayed clean, you’ve done anything that Pop asked you to do. This is outrageous.” 

 

“It’s okay, Al,” he whispered, and he ran a hand through her hair. “I think I’m going to ask Fred for a job,” he said. “I just want to take a day. Spend some time with you, without being surrounded by ten out of place teens?”

 

When FP said it like that, it  _ did _ sound nice. Were they  _ allowed _ to just relax? It had been so long since Alice had even contemplated the thought that she wasn’t sure what the answer was. She supposed that it would be alright, even if relaxing did go against her high strung nature. 

 

“Alright,” she agreed, kissing him softly. “That does sound nice. Why don’t you take a shower and get out of that  _ ridiculous  _ uniform, and then we can?” She was fairly certain that she was blushing. “I think asking Fred for a job is a good idea,” she added. “He owes you.”

 

Perhaps it was irrational to be blaming Fred for the debacle with the Lodges, but was Alice the one who had invited Hermione Lodge into her life and into her bed? Absolutely not. She had thought that Fred had the common sense that would fit in a thimble (and she did  _ not _ endorse what Hal had done), and would have listened to his inner voice screaming “danger”, but, it appeared, Fred either did not have an inner voice that did anything that made Alice even vaguely resembling proud, or, he had thought with the lower half of his body and not the upper half. Alice had done the  _ proper _ thing, shunning Hermione and attempting to convince Betty that Veronica wasn’t a good friend to have, not that she’d been listened to on that count. Even after Hermione had taken Polly in after she left the Sisters, Alice was still suspicious of her intentions. And, she felt vindicated in the fact that she felt  _ right _ to be.

 

Hermione Lodge was  _ not _ the first person in Riverdale to attempt to completely change her stripes, that would have been Alice, and she’d done a  _ much  _ better job. 

 

“He offered me a job when I came home,” he admitted. “I wanted to prove that I didn’t need any help. I thought Pop was still legit.”

 

“It’s not wrong to need help,” she said, touching his cheek. “No one is going to judge you for trying to do better for yourself, and your children.”

 

“Have you --”

 

“Of course not,” she said. “Why would Polly bother to call me?”

 

“Alice…”

 

“I don’t care that she’s not speaking to me.” she said. “I can accept that she doesn’t like the things that I’ve done, that she doesn’t care about her father getting arrested for being the  _ Black Hood _ , I can accept that her claiming she was moving away to be safe was  _ bullshit _ . I know I screwed up, FP. I’m big enough to admit that. It hurts me that she’s not talking to Betty, who did  _ nothing _ to her.” 

 

“You act like you’re horrible, Al,” he said.

 

“Aren’t I? I sent my  _ child _ to the place that  _ tortured me _ while I was pregnant with Charles,” she pointed out. “I  _ could have _ kept her at home, I should have  _ tried _ to help her. Maybe things would have been different. I wouldn’t have made her get an abortion like he wanted her to, I could have kicked him out. I have so many regrets with how I handled things with Polly. So  _ many _ .” She shook her head. “I chose Hal over her, time and time again, and then when I didn’t pick Hal I picked  _ Chic _ . So no wonder she doesn’t answer my calls.”

 

“It’s alright, Alice,” she heard FP say, and she let him pull her into a hug, suddenly aware she was crying. “It’s gonna be alright.”

  
  


***

  
  


“I’ve heard from Cousin Polly,” Jason Blossom’s twin announced as she and Toni stood in the foyer, and FP marvelled about how the girl could speak directly to him but not actually look him in the eyes. He supposed he deserved that. “She wanted me to tell Cousin Betty and Cousin Alice to leave her alone.”

 

“She did  _ what _ ?” FP asked, or rather, FP demanded, not entirely amused. “She can’t even tell them that to their faces?” 

 

“I told her that I wasn’t going to do that,” she elaborated, fixing him with a glare. “I have no time for her juvenile tactics to avoid seeing her perfectly normal family.” She sighed. “The only ones besides Nana Rose who have even  _ tried _ to accept my relationship with Toni.”

 

Jason’s twin sighed once more. “I suppose that my involvement with Toni means that I must exchange an overture of forgiveness to you,” she allowed, and FP watched her purse her lips in disgust. “I can accept that my parents are the ones that were the reason Jay Jay died, and that you were just another casualty of their  _ sick games _ . Toni says that you’re not  _ evil _ .”

 

“ _ Cheryl _ ,” Toni said, and he shrugged his shoulders. Cheryl had every reason to hate him. 

 

“I’m not finished,” she said, crossing her arms. “If you do anything to hurt Cousin Betty or Cousin Alice, that will be the  _ last thing you do _ . I don’t care if you’re the King of the Serpents.”

 

“Duly noted,” he said. “You know Alice isn’t actually your cousin, right…?”

 

“Of course I know that,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “What, do you think I’m going to claim  _ Cousin Hal _ ?” 

 

“Shouldn’t the two of you be in school?” He asked. FP wasn’t the world’s greatest parent but he  _ knew _ when Jughead and the other Serpents needed to be in school, and it was definitely the middle of the day.    
  
“I can’t control when Cousin Polly calls me,” she said, breathily. “And I certainly wasn’t going here without backup.”

 

“Shouldn’t, er, Cousin Polly be in school, too?” 

 

“Oh,  _ please _ ,” Cheryl said. “As if she has the time for that with her twins and the farm.”

 

FP decided that for his sanity he would let Alice question the Blossom girl, and, he supposed, Toni as well. He had no idea what the hell farm Polly Cooper was at, when Alice thought that she’d moved to  _ San Francisco _ . Hell, he had no idea what Cheryl Blossom even said half of time. 

 

“You two can wait in the living room,” he suggested. “While I go get Alice? She’s just upstairs.”

 

Without waiting for a response (well aware that his terror around Cheryl Blossom could potentially ruin his credibility as the Serpent King), FP left the teens to their own devices, and took the stairs two at a time, finding Alice in the master bedroom that she had only reclaimed after shelling out money FP couldn’t even begin to imagine for a new set of furniture. She had claimed it was so he could experience the latest in mattresses, but he suspected that it was because she couldn’t stand sleeping in the bed she’d shared with Cooper. Not that he was complaining. Anything was a step up from a pullout couch in a trailer. 

 

“Your  _ cousin _ is here,” he said, rolling his eyes at the fact that Cheryl insisted on calling her that. “She says she’s spoken to Polly.”

 

“What?” Alice said, setting aside the papers that she been reading on the bed beside her. “Polly’s here?”   
  
“No, Allie,” he said, hating to crush the flickering hopeful look on her face, but not wanting her to have it crushed by thinking her daughter had come home and being faced by Toni Topaz and Cheryl Blossom. FP liked Toni, but even he knew that that would be a disappointment to her. And he  _ loved _ Alice. “Blossom and Topaz just showed up,” he explained. “I guess Polly’s spoken to Blossom.”

 

“I see.” 

 

“If you don’t want --”

 

“Jonesy, I don’t think you would last against  _ Cheryl Blossom _ if you tried to stop her from doing  _ anything _ . And I want to hear what she has to say about Polly. I  _ need _ to know.”

 

“Okay,” he said. “I am sorry.”

 

“I know,” she said, smiling sadly at him. “It will be okay, though.”

  
  


***

  
  


“So, these are your cousins,” Toni said, eying a photograph of Betty Cooper and a slightly older girl, who  _ had _ to be Polly Cooper. The photo looked like it had been enlarged from another photograph, one with others in it, and she wondered what the story was behind that.

 

Oh, right. Probably that whole my-husband-was-the-man-terrorizing-the-town-and-killing-people thing. Toni wasn’t really surprised. She had figured out after FP’s comment that the now-incarcerated Mr. Cooper had been the one with Blossom blood, and, well...Toni thought the majority of Cheryl’s family was crazy as could be. 

 

She felt bad for Mrs. Cooper. It couldn’t have been easy. 

 

The living room that FP had said the two of them could wait in for him and Mrs. Cooper frankly looked  _ nothing _ like Toni had imagined. Perhaps it had been wrong to assume that the Coopers lived in a cotton-candy-esque world where everyone wore pastels and the house was immaculately kept, but, to be fair, Toni had  _ seen _ Alice Cooper. She also went to school with Betty, who was the living embodiment of  _ preppy school girl _ . 

 

The living room, though obviously a living room that would be only found on the Northside, was strangely... _ not formal _ . Not that Toni thought the Coopers house should look like Thistlehouse. It was just...strange. She was almost not entirely out of place in it.

 

Which was  _ very strange _ when it came to both Cheryl’s family, and the family of FP and Jughead’s girlfriends’. She briefly wondered if she was in the twilight zone.

 

“Is this  _ normal _ for your cousins?” She asked, sitting down on the sectional beside Cheryl, who seemed to be perturbed.    
  


“No, Cousin Alice seems to have redecorated,” she said. “Maybe because all of your friends live with her now?”   
  


“Maybe it creeped her out,” Toni mused. “Having things how they were before things changed.”   
  


 


	7. how much she blamed herself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is there something that you want?” She asked, her tone bored. “I made my position clear. If you think that I am setting foot in the Register’s office this soon after what happened with Hal, you have another thing coming. You’re lucky I’m even capable of writing anything at all.”

“I wanted to thank you girls for coming over,” Alice told Cheryl and Toni, her tone sincere, as she prepared a tray of tea and scones for the four of them. “I’m sorry that Polly put you in that position,” she added, speaking directly to Cheryl. “She shouldn’t have done that.”

 

“I’ve accepted that Cousin Polly is crazy, Cousin Alice,” Cheryl said, taking a sip of her tea. “I’m unsurprised by her actions.”

 

Alice wanted to rebut the fact that Cheryl thought her older daughter was crazy, but, well, she had to wonder if she was onto something. At the very least, Polly’s latest behavior was being deliberately obstinate, and something that Alice did not want to stand for. She was a  _ child.  _ Ideally she needed to be home with them, though Alice didn’t want to force their houseguests to deal with the sure to be explosive result of her exhibiting parental authority and forcing her to move back in. 

 

But, yet, there  _ was _ a thought that occurred to Alice. She wondered if Rose Blossom would be okay with it, if she could even get ahold of Polly to convince her to give it a try. 

 

“Actions?” She asked, unsure if she actually wanted to know, but unable to help herself. 

 

“I did some research on that farm she lives on,” Cheryl said, and she pulled out a packet of papers and placed it on the table. “I don’t know what she and Jay Jay were  _ thinking _ ,” she added. “She needs to get out of there.”

 

“They  _ weren’t _ thinking,” she muttered. “They were kids that were in over their heads.” She sighed. “Look, I want to apologize,” she said. “For how I treated Jason’s death. For how I treated you. Elizabeth was right, he was a person, and I should have been nicer.”

 

“Oh, Cousin Alice, it’s okay,” she said. “I don’t blame you for publishing those things, it’s not like my parents didn’t deserve it. And I  _ was _ guilty.” Cheryl sighed. “We all did things we regret.”

 

Satisfied that no one was going to go hungry, Alice took her cup of tea and a scone, and she settled on the couch beside FP, sitting in between his legs. She wasn’t much concerned about even pretending that there was propriety in her life anymore (as  _ if _ she would have ever been so intimate with Hal  _ ever _ , let alone around others), and she  _ liked _ being able to cuddle with her man. It was nice. 

 

“What did Polly say?” She asked, trying not to sound desperate. “Is she alright?”   
  
“Is Polly ever alright?” Cheryl replied. “I told her she needed to come home,” she said. “That Betty needed her and that I needed her and that if she  _ really _ didn’t want to stay with you, she could stay with myself, Nana Rose, and Toni.”

 

“And?” 

 

Alice clutched her teacup with enough force to have her knuckles go white. She was so afraid that Polly had said no, had rejected the offer, like she’d rejected everything else.

 

“She said that she would.”   
  


“Thank God.” She placed the cup on the table, climbing off FP to give Cheryl a hug. “I just want her to come home, where she’s safe, where the twins are safe. Even if it’s not living with me. Thank you, Cheryl.”

 

“I don’t have a lot of family anymore,” Cheryl said softly. “I don’t want to lose the family I do have.”

 

“You won’t,” she said. “I’ll do my best, at least.” 

 

“I appreciate that, Cousin Alice,” she said. “I’m sorry for bothering you and Mr. Jones,” she added. “I know it’s the middle of the school day, you probably weren’t expecting to be interrupted. I just had to let you know that I’d heard from Polly.”

 

“I’m glad that you let me know,” she admitted. “Do the two of you need a ride back?”

 

Truthfully, Alice was very dubious that the twosome were heading back to school to ride out the remainder of the day. She didn’t know that she blamed them. Things had been strange in Riverdale ever since the fight between the Serpents and the Ghoulies. It was uneasy.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Toni said. “I have my bike.” 

 

“Tell Polly...tell her that I’ll pay for her flight, okay?” She begged. “Whatever she needs. Please, Cheryl?”

 

“Of course.” 

 

Alice (being a concerned mother, despite the fact that she constantly failed at doing so), stood on her porch watching Toni and Cheryl drive away, staying there until they were out of sight. The fact that Polly was coming home (even if it was to Cheryl’s house, and even if she never saw her ever) was a large weight taken off of her shoulders. She didn’t want to think of  _ anyone _ she loved living in a cult. 

 

A familiar car pulled up in front of her house, and she bit back a groan, unsurprised when the driver’s side window rolled down and she was faced with Hiram Lodge. She was tempted to call out for FP, but she really just wanted the so called educated gangsta to vacate her premises. 

 

“Is there something that you want?” She asked, her tone bored. “I made my position clear. If you think that I am setting foot in the Register’s office this soon after what happened with Hal, you have another thing coming. You’re lucky I’m even capable of writing anything at  _ all _ .”

 

“Oh, speaking of Hal,” she added, flashing him a brief, bright, smile. “You will be hearing from my lawyer.”

 

“What?” Hiram asked, wearing an expression that Alice wanted to smack the hell out of on his face. “Why would I be hearing from your lawyer?”   
  
“Well, you see,” she said, smiling serenely. “I’m taking back what’s mine. You’ll figure it out.”

 

“What?”   
  


Alice stalked down the stairs, the heels of her snakeskin boots clacking ominously as she approached Hiram’s car.

 

“You may have gotten in bed with my  _ idiot _ ex,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “But does a businessman like yourself really want to be...publicly associated with someone that’s so...sloppy?”

 

She held back a smirk as he paled, a wave of contentment washing over her. It  _ was _ nice to put Hiram in his place. 

 

“You raise an interesting point, Alice,” he said. “And of course you have every right to not publish your endorsement on Hermione. I can understand why you would feel...conflicted, given the circumstances.”

 

“And you will be leaving, correct?” 

 

“Absolutely,” Hiram said, and he tugged at his collar. “I-”   
  
“Won’t be coming back to this street again?” She helpfully supplied. 

 

“Of course. Whatever you need, Mrs. Cooper.”

 

“It’s  _ Smith _ ,” she said. “Alice Smith.  _ Goodbye _ , Hiram.”

 

Alice Smith got a sense of satisfaction from watching the man peel out from the street as if he’d been burned. 

 

“I wanted to punch him,” FP said to her, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. His tone sounded downright wistful. “When I heard what he said to you…”

 

“You can’t just start punching people because you don’t like how they treat me,” she chided. “Especially since you’re on parole.” She sighed, wondering if she’d been overly harsh. “Come here. I know you’re angry at him,” she said softly. “And I know you’re worried about me. And that’s very sweet. I just...I need you here, FP. So do the kids. All of them.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “He want you to endorse her?”

 

“I have half a mind to endorse Fred,” she sighed. “At least he doesn’t want to turn Riverdale into a Mafia Den.”

 

“He’d be lucky to have you in his corner,” he said. “Anyone would be.”


	8. my lipstick all over your face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thought of making Archibald squirm for a prolonged period of time, did, however, fill Alice’s heart with joy, even after all they had recently been through.

“Do you really mean that?” Alice was taken aback by how broken her tone sounded (and her vocal cords had mostly healed, so she couldn’t even use  _ that _ as an excuse for her pathetic tone), but she persevered. “That anyone would be  _ lucky _ to have me in their corner?”

 

“Of course,” FP said, and she let him take her hands in his. “Why wouldn’t I mean that?”   
  


“I feel like a  _ pariah _ ,” she admitted. “Half the city won’t look at me because the man I was in the process of divorcing was our terrorizing serial killer! And I can’t even blame them, FP. It looks  _ really bad _ .”

 

“Better the ex-wife of a serial killer than a mob wife,” he muttered. 

 

“I think they’re in the Mafia,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s in a cartel or three.”

 

“Is that really the person you want to endorse? Even  _ by admission?  _ I’m honestly surprised Red is still alive some days.”   
  


“You mean by omission, honey,” she corrected, her tone gentle and her eyes filled with mirth. “And...no, I suppose you’re right.” 

 

“Will you admit that on the record?” He asked, a smirk on his lips. “I mean, Alice Smith admitting FP Jones is right. That has to be a Register exclusive.” 

 

“I will  _ gladly _ admit it on the record,” she said. “I will admit  _ many _ things on the record, if the paper I co-own ever bothered to ask me to confirm or deny anything.” She rolled her eyes. “Did you want to see Jughead before the kids get out of school? We can go together, before Elizabeth comes to monopolize him.”   
  


“You think we should invite Red?” He asked. “I’m pretty sure he’s watching us from his window.”

 

Alice craned her neck in the direction of the house across the street, none too thrilled when the glimpse of red hair proved FP’s point. It was the  _ middle _ of the school day. It had been one thing when Cheryl and Toni had blown off class to tell her that Polly had been convinced to return. She could pretend that they had returned to class, though she did have her suspicions that that wasn’t the case. 

 

Archie blatantly blowing off his education was unacceptable. She had half a mind to deliver him to Principal Weatherbee herself. 

 

The thought of making Archibald squirm for a prolonged period of time, did, however, fill Alice’s heart with joy, even after all they had recently been through. 

 

“Of course we should invite him,” she said. “It would be nice for Jughead to see his friend.”

 

“And?” FP asked, his tone knowing. “What do you have planned?”

 

Alice gazed at him innocently. “Nothing, Jonesy. I just...feel our dating might be a surprise.” 

 

“How?”

 

“We are talking about Archie, darling,” she pointed out. “Do you really think he’s been reading the Register, or picking up keen observation skills since that conversation I had with him in the hospital? If he has been, I will be  _ pleasantly _ surprised.”

 

“You have a hickey on your neck,” he murmured. “Surely even Red would…well, maybe not. He does seem to miss the obvious.”

 

“I have more than a hickey on my neck from you, Mr. Jones,” Alice whispered in his ear, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly. She snuggled closer to him, and deepened the embrace. “You were  _ very _ proficient in marking your territory last night. I’m  _ impressed _ .”

 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But, that one’s the only one that Red will ever be able to see.” 

 

Alice’s face flushed bright red and she started to giggle. It was true that Archie Andrews was never going to be privy to seeing any of the other love bites that FP had given to her the previous evening, save for the one on her neck, because they were in rather private places. That didn’t mean she didn’t find their existence to be  _ very _ hot. She wasn’t ashamed of her sex life. She and FP had been abstinent since they had moved in together, not because she had suddenly developed a copious level of morals, but rather because he had insisted that they take things slow until they were sure that this was what they wanted. Plus there was the practicalities of waiting for her neck to heal, and pesky little things like Serpents constantly under foot whenever she was feeling amorous. She still wasn’t entirely certain how they’d managed to complete the act the previous evening, but she was glad that they had. 

 

“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “He won’t see any of the others.” She gave him a kiss on the lips.

 

“You know that I love you, right, Al?” 

 

“I know,” she said. “I love you, too.”

 

“I know that, baby.” He smiled down at her. “You’d have to love me to put up with what you’ve been putting up with.”

 

“I could say the same for you,” she retorted. “Trying to tame Alice Smith, it’s either love or you’re a masochist.”

 

He kissed her again. “Maybe it’s a bit of both.”

 

“Of course it is. It would almost have to be.” 

 

“Can you even  _ be _ tamed?” FP mused, as he ran his hands through her hair. “I always thought that was impossible. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

 

Alice kissed him hungrily, the chaste, mindful of the watching Archie, kisses that they had been exchanging quickly abandoned for ambushing FP with her mouth, straddling him against the handrail of their front steps. There was  _ something _ about Jonesy that made Alice abandon all of her propriety and years of Northside built restraint, which was evident to anyone in the neighborhood that could see the two of them practically pawing each other on the sidewalk. It had been so long since she had felt desirable, that she had felt loved, that she didn’t care that she was confirming the paper’s headline (it had said something about her being a sex addict, from what she could hazily recall), or that she was going to be the talk of the street. She was tired of everyone running their mouths about her relationship with Hal, and was really quite willing to give them something different to talk about, as long as FP kept kissing her.

 

“I might let you try,” she offered, when she came up for air, before his mouth captured hers again and she felt herself relinquish control. It was  _ hot _ , what they were doing. It reminded her of when they were younger, of being back at Sunnyside. She was sad it had caught on fire. “Kinda like it when you try.”

 

She felt his hands move from her waist to her ass, a development that she welcomed. It was fortunate that she was wearing those ridiculous yoga pants again (he apparently  _ liked _ seeing her dressed down, and, really, Alice sort of liked that) instead of a dress or something that would have exposed her to the entire neighborhood. Some things were still left to the imagination. 

 

“I love you.” His voice was deep with want. “So  _ fucking _ much, Al.”

 

“I love you, too. And, I know.” She leaned in for another kiss. “We really need to get going, though.”

 

“You got me goin’ right now.” This, Alice could see, was definitely true. The effects that she had on her boyfriend were quite obvious due to his tight jeans. “But, yeah, you’re right. Especially since Fred’s coming over.”

 

“What would he even do?” She scoffed, though she positioned herself in front of FP to hide his little  _ problem _ , grinning softly when she was rewarded by him hugging her from behind. FP was so good to her. “Hello, Fred,” she offered, leaning back against FP’s chest. “Is there something we can help you with?”

 

“The two of you look like you’re in a good mood,” Fred said, causing her to momentarily preen before the general evasion of her question came into her field of thought.

 

“Why wouldn’t we be?” She asked. 

 

“I was just saying,” he said. “It’s nice. I’m glad the two of you are happy.”

 

“We’re really happy,” she agreed. “Are you about to say something that will ruin our happiness?” It was a fair question. Riverdale managed to do so very easily.

 

“No, of course not. Why would you say such a thing?”

 

She and FP exchanged a glance. “I say such things easily,” she said, her tone dry. 

 

“I just wanted to thank you,” he said. “For what you’ve been doing to try to help Archie. I know he doesn’t entirely deserve to be helped.” 

 

“You don’t need to thank me,” she said softly. “He’s Elizabeth’s friend, and Jughead’s.” 

 

“Speaking of which,” FP chimed in. “We’re going to see Jug, if he wants to come with. Get him out of your hair for a bit.”


	9. through it all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t be sorry,” FP’s voice had dropped to a whisper, and Fred got the general sense he was intruding on a moment of some sort. “I don’t mind.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Fred informed them, and he had a difficult time keeping the smirk off his face when he saw that FP was sporting a rather fetching shade of lipstick. It was nice that his friends were happy together, he reminded himself. It was definitely 100% wrong to make fun of them, especially to their faces. He wasn’t sure if FP would mind, but he did sense the potential for Alice to anger. The trigger temper she occasionally sported now made sense, of course. He could see why marrying a serial killer would have one constantly on edge. “Truthfully, he’s been driving me insane.”

 

“Shouldn’t he be going to school?” Alice asked, arching a brow. “I mean, that  _ is  _ what we strive for the children to do, right? 

 

“He’s claiming he has a target on his back,” Fred explained. She rolled her eyes.

 

“Are you kidding me? If Hiram wanted to take him out, he could have done so  _ right here _ ,” she said, arms crossed over her chest. “He literally  _ just _ drove by in that overpriced car he bought your child to play see how quickly I can be humiliated by Alice. It’s a game that I’m  _ very _ good at, by the way. So I dearly suggest Archie doesn’t join in.”

 

“For that matter, the members of the Southside community that have moved in with both you and myself have managed to tend to their educational pursuits, and I have to say, I feel they have more to risk.”

 

“You have a point, Alice,” he agreed. “You try convincing a teenager to do anything, though. What can I do?”

 

“I don’t convince teenagers to do things,” she said. “My house, my rules, end of story. Elizabeth would  _ never _ blow off school for over two weeks. I wouldn’t allow it. Even  _ Fogarty  _ is back in school, and he got shot in the stomach.” He watched her reach over for FP’s hand, not even missing a beat in her lecture. “Do you think I want Archibald to have to go to summer school?” She asked. “What a good use of his time  _ that _ would be. No. I will tell him that he has a choice. He goes back to school and doesn’t run your house for you, or, in lieu of a semi-deficient public school education, he comes over every day and I  _ tutor _ him. And this won’t be the fun type of tutoring that school allowed him to have.”

 

“You would --”   
  
“I strongly suggest that he  _ doesn’t _ pick that option,” she continued. “FP and I do enjoy our alone time, which is  _ already  _ limited, and I am sure that Archie would  _ hate _ to be the cause of why we have even less.”

 

“Even though it’s safer?”

 

“Again,” she said flatly. “Remember who very  _ recently _ lived in this very house who  _ could have _ killed your son on his very own? Frankly, I think Archie is lucky he  _ didn’t _ , given Hal’s decision to target all of the sinners in this town. I think he’s safer at school.”

 

“Come on, Fred,” FP interjected. “She’s just trying to help.”   
  


“Okay,” he agreed. “I know she is. I didn’t mean to…”   
  


“It’s fine,” Alice said. “I’m fine. I’m not ashamed of what happened to me. I wish I was, but I’m not. Let people say what they want. I know they want to.”

 

“I’m still sorry,” he insisted, seeing the look in FP’s eyes. “Did you want to come over? Have some coffee before you go?”

 

“It’s up to Al,” FP said, shrugging. “If she feels up to it. You know how that works.” 

 

“I can go for a coffee,” she said, reaching up and rubbing at the worst of the lipstick. “I really need to get a lipstick with more staying power, I’m sorry, honey.”

 

Fred was really trying hard not to gawk. It was just so odd seeing genuine affection coming from Alice Smith to her significant other, and the fact that it was FP she was being affectionate to really made Fred think he was back in time, in some bizarre version of high school. 

 

“Don’t be sorry,” FP’s voice had dropped to a whisper, and Fred got the general sense he was intruding on a moment of some sort. “I don’t mind.”

 

“Alright,” he said, not wanting to disturb the couple, but suspecting the twosome had forgotten that he was standing there, an unfortunate third wheel. It was  _ awkward _ watching FP and Alice attempt to undress each other with their eyes. It had been awkward back in high school and it was no less unsettling to see in the present. “I’ll be across the street, waiting for the two of you.”   
  


“We’ll be there in a moment,” she said, waving a hand in his general direction, and he knew that he was being dismissed. “You don’t need to wait here.”

 

Fred was certainly  _ not _ going to ‘wait here’, not while his oldest friend and Alice ignored him in favor of...well, he  _ knew  _ what they were ignoring him in favor of. He needed to get back to the house, and get back to Archie, to make sure that both the house and his child were suitable for the occasion. Archie was likely to be the bigger problem than the house, he reflected. 

 

It wasn’t like Alice was  _ wrong _ , he reflected. Archie needed to be in school whether he wanted to be or not, and he highly doubted that he would be able to convince him to go for private tutoring at the Joneses. He had been the one to get himself in this situation, anyways. It was perhaps uncharitable for Fred to blame his sixteen year old for his screw ups, but he had to say that when he was sixteen he had known better than to involve himself with Hiram Lodge and his schemes.  

 

“Get dressed,” he told Archie, who was lounging on the couch watching what appeared to be  _ Maury _ (what a wonderful thing for his best friend’s hypercritical mother to find him watching after his sixth day straight of refusing to attend school), clad in a t-shirt and boxers. “Alice and FP are coming over for coffee, and then you are going with them to visit Jughead. He wants to see you.”

 

“Sounds good,” Archie replied. 

 

“And, tomorrow, you’re going back to school,” he said. “This avoidance ends today. Everyone else that can go back  _ has _ gone back.”


	10. and we tried real hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And I’ve seen that movie. Mr. and Mrs. Smith? You expect me to buy that you’re not pretending to have a secret identity?”

“Why do you think Fred left so fast?” FP wondered out loud, as he let Alice clean her lipstick off his face, though only because she had seemed so adamant that she do so. He guessed it probably had something to do with the fact that they were supposed to be adults? He didn’t get where her mind went sometimes. “Was it something we did?”

 

“I think we were behaving too intimately for his comfort,” she said softly, squeezing his bicep as she climbed off his lap. “He must be lonely.” 

 

“You think so?” 

 

“Wouldn’t you be?” She asked. “Mary comes and goes with no rhyme or reason, when he’s not with Mary he’s being led astray by Hermione with claims of loves lost and relieving memories...probably at Hiram’s behest.” She sighed. “Not that anyone  _ ever  _ listens to me when I point out the obvious.”   
  


“What a burdensome life you lead,” he teased, reaching out for her hand and squeezing it tightly. “I listen to you.”

 

“I know  _ you  _ do,” she assured him. “It’s really a shame no one else thinks they need my guidance. I have so much wisdom to bestow on them.”

 

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time to bestow your wisdom on Archie today,” he pointed out. “He won’t be able to escape you.”   
  


Alice’s eyes lit up, and FP grinned at the sight. 

 

“You’re  _ right _ ,” she said, practically jumping for joy. “A captive audience.” Her lips captured his once more. “You always know the right things to say, Jonesy.”

 

“It’s easy to say the right things when you’re the right person,” he replied. He wasn’t sure where exactly he’d picked that phrase up (it sounds like something found on a greeting card that Jughead had probably spent a copious amount of time mocking that had managed to infiltrate FP’s brain), but he knew that Alice  _ liked _ that stuff, even if she pretended that she didn’t. “You’re...you’re that person for me, Allie,” he continued. “You always will be. I promise.”

 

“I love you, too, honey.” Another kiss, this one more chaste than the previous ones. “We really should get going, though.”

 

“You’re  _ really _ looking forward to tormenting Red, aren’t you?”   
  


She smirked, before turning to slip on her Serpent jacket. “Maybe a little bit.”

 

“Only a  _ little _ ?” 

 

“Okay, maybe  _ more  _ than a little.” 

 

The admission made her blush, and FP liked when Alice blushed, especially when it was due to him. He stood, stretching slightly, before he put his hand on the small of her back, in an attempt to propel her in the direction of the door. He really would have prefered to make out with Alice than go have  _ coffee _ with Fred and Red, but since she had agreed to go he felt it was probably one of those things where it would be rude not to do so. There was also the part of him that couldn’t believe that Red could be so unobservant that he wouldn’t figure out that he and Alice were dating. There was  _ no way _ he was that dumb.    
  


“What’re you smiling at?” She asked, having grabbed a basket of...something, it smelled good, at least, and if Alice had baked it he was sure that it was delicious. “Me?”   
  


“Of course you,” he said. “Come on, m’lady. Let’s go.”

 

“M’ _ lady _ ?” She repeated. “What brought that on?”

 

“You’re my Queen, aren’t you?” He asked. “If you wanted, I mean. Is that what you want?”

 

“Am I fit to be the Queen to their King?” 

 

“My opinion is the only one that matters,” he murmured. “And...no one really has an issue with you anymore. Besides Joaquin.” 

 

“I don’t think Joaquin knows how dangerous playing with fire is,” she mused. “He seems pretty content to do so.”

 

“He’ll learn.” He reached out and rang the doorbell, having a sneaking suspicion that Fred was about to experience that as a new experience while dealing with Alice. He sensed that a closed door had the capacity to be her enemy, and he knew firsthand just how well Alice vanquished enemies. 

  
  


***

  
  


“What’s with the jacket, Mrs. C?”

 

“It’s Ms. Smith, now, Archibald.” Alice corrected him, and if looks could have actually killed she was fairly certain that hers would have killed him. What a  _ shame _ that would have been. “Weren’t you in the room when I had that particular conversation with Kevin Keller?”   
  


“I thought you were just saying that so no one would know you were on the television,” he said, a look of perplexity written on his face. She simply stared. “I mean, because we all saw you. And Mr. Cooper  _ was  _ getting arrested! So it made sense.”

 

“And I’ve  _ seen  _ that movie. Mr. and Mrs. Smith? You expect me to buy that you’re not pretending to have a secret identity?”

 

Alice could  _ hear _ FP snickering as she attempted to process whatever word-vomit Archie had produced in the minute they’d been in his house. 

 

“I...don’t know what to say,” she admitted. “Wow. There really  _ is _ nothing in there.” Alice honestly did not understand how Archie Andrews could manage to be so perpetually clueless, and in ways that  _ constantly _ surprised her. He was like a never-ending story. A choose-your-own-adventure. An episode of Alice’s Unsolved Mysteries. “Let’s try this again,” she said, feeling charitable. “I was  _ not _ just assuming a false identity because Hal was on the television. Smith is my maiden name. I have gone to it while I am waiting for the divorce to be finalized.”

 

“You’re getting a divorce?”

 

“Where have you been?” She demanded. “How are you  _ that  _ unobservant that you haven’t noticed that your supposed best friend’s parents have been having marital troubles for the greater part of a decade? I don’t get it. Does Elizabeth tell you  _ nothing _ ?”

 

“Hello, Alice,” Fred said, having impeccable timing, because Alice was truly about to use a homemade muffin as a clue-by-four for his prodigal son. “The two of you are just in time. The coffee just finished brewing.”

 

“Hey, Mr. Jones,” Archie offered. “You and Mrs--Ms. S match.” 

 

Alice rolled her eyes. 

 

“Why is that, do you think?” She queried. “What  _ social club  _ does FP run?”

 

“I’ll take those,” FP said, taking the basket of muffins from her. “She’s a Serpent, Red.”

 

“That’s a social club? I thought it was a gang?”

 

No wonder Fred had been so eager to let them bring Archie to visit Jughead with them, Alice thought uncharitably, he was probably being driven positively insane by the teenager’s ramblings. She knew that she was, and she had barely been in his presence since the night of Hal’s arrest. 

 

“I was using hy-” Sensing that using the word ‘hyperbole’ would lead to more confusion, she caught herself and changed tactics. “We’re all entitled to our opinions, Archibald.”

 

“So  _ you’re _ in the Serpents?” He continued. “Will they let me in too?”   
  


“Absolutely not,” she said, tone firm. “I will not allow you to join us. Why on earth do you even want to? You spent the last few months  _ terrorizing  _ them. You and your Hiram Lodge funded inanity.” 

 

“It  _ wasn’t _ inanity,” he protested. “What’s wrong with wanting the town to be safe?”

 

“Oh, please,” she said. “Hiram doesn’t want this town to be safe. Hal did a better job of that than him. What Hiram wants is  _ control _ , Archie. He wants everyone in his pocket, and views the Southside as an easy target. And you and your  _ Bulldog  _ friends turned against Jughead for  _ no reason _ when he probably really needed a friend, did you ever think about that?”

 

Archie simply stared. 

 

“I didn’t think so.” 

 

Alice honestly hadn’t been planning on reading Archie the riot act before they had even left his house, but she was so tired of his complete and utter inability to recognize or for that matter care that his actions had consequences. And she was tired of the tongue bath that he gave Hiram Lodge. The man was a criminal, and not in the remotely endearing petty crimes way that FP and the rest of the Serpents were. 

 

“I was Jughead’s friend!” 

 

“Not a very good one, I think we can all agree,” she said, pushing past him and entering Fred’s kitchen, where he and FP had already started in on her muffins. She bypassed the chair that she suspected had been meant for her, choosing instead to sit on FP’s lap, still seething with rage. She did not understand how one person could be  _ so clueless _ . “Do you like them?” She asked, trying to calm down.

 

“Of course I do, baby,” FP replied, and she smiled, the feeling of his breath on her neck semi-distracting her from the debacle that was Archibald. She preened even more when Fred  _ also _ complimented the results of a bout of no-contact-from-Polly stress baking. It was nice when people gave her compliments. 

 

“So, Fred, Polly is coming back,” she informed him. “I’m not sure when, but, hopefully soon.”

 

“You must be happy,” he said.

 

“Yeah,” she agreed. She was truthfully conflicted on Polly’s return. She knew that Elizabeth wanted to see her, and she knew that Polly had  _ every right _ to be mad at her and to not want to stay with them, but she was still hurt that Thistlehouse had come as a suggestion from  _ her _ and not the other way around. “I hope she stays.”

 

FP squeezed her shoulders supportively. “It’s gonna be okay,” he said. “Whatever happens.”

  
  


***

  
  


Archie Andrews had been doing something that he hadn’t done in a very long time: thinking critically. It had been hurtful to hear that Betty’s mother thought that the things that he and his friends had believed in weren’t worthy of believing in, but that had hurt less than her telling him that she thought he’d been a bad friend to Jughead. He didn’t even know when Mrs. Cooper (he  _ still _ didn’t see why she was getting a divorce, his parents had never had) had started to care about Jughead’s feelings (maybe when she and his dad had rekindled their friendship?), but he had to admit it was...possible she was correct.

 

He opened his mouth to speak, before shifting slightly in the bench seat of FP’s truck to see that, during his contemplation of her words, Mrs. Cooper had fallen soundly asleep. He suspected that FP would be even less enthused by his epiphany about his poor behavior. 

 

He wondered if Mr. Lodge had  _ really _ had the Ghoulies go after Jughead because of him. 

 

He wondered a lot of things. 

 

“Is Jughead going to be okay?” He figured that was a safe topic to start with, one that wouldn’t send the occupants of the truck into a conniption. (Mrs. Cooper could wake up at any time, Archie figured it would be his luck to have that point illustrated when he put his foot in his mouth.) “When does he get to come home? I mean...to Betty’s?”   
  


“That  _ is _ home, boy,” FP replied, his jaw set, keeping a careful watch on the road that Archie suspected was mainly to avoid looking at him. “Hopefully soon,” he added. “He’s going to be okay, though. He just needs time to heal. Peabody and her ghouls did a number on him.”

 

“You’re not moving back to Sunnyside?”

 

“Half of it is burnt out, and the other half is probably dangerous as a result of the burnt out half,” he said slowly, glancing briefly in Archie’s direction before he shifted Mrs. Cooper closer to him, which Archie supposed made sense given that she seemed fonder of Mr. Jones than she was of him at that moment. “Allie said that we could live with her, and that’s what we’re going to do. Be a family in a real house.”

 

“Allie?”

 

“ _ Alice _ , Red,” he said. “Try to keep up. Who else would I be referring to in this context?”

 

“I didn’t know people called her that,” he said, trying to defend himself. 

 

“ _ People _ don’t call her that,” he said. “ _ I  _ call her that. I call her many things that you shouldn’t dream of letting leave your mouth.”

 

“Because you’re friends,” he supplied. 

 

“Right,  _ friends _ ,” he drawled. “Very special friends that are  _ involved with each other _ .” Per usual, Archie felt that he was several pages behind the person he was speaking to, in spite of FP’s seeming to agree with him. “Speaking of which,” he said, his tone casual. “If you call Alice ‘Mrs. Cooper’ again, I will make you regret it. It makes her feel uncomfortable, and I don’t like that.” He cleared his throat. “Not everyone’s parents are like yours, Red. Marriages don’t last and we have to move past that.”

 

“What about Jughead’s mom?” 

 

“Gladys knows my feelings on her actions,” he said flatly. “Not that that is  _ any _ of your business.”

 

“It was just a question!” 

 

“It’s never just a question with you, Red,” FP corrected him. “I mean what I said. You better not call Alice Mrs. Cooper again. Might I remind you that Alice and I are  _ in charge of a gang _ you keep pissing off? Do I make myself clear? Alice has it rough enough. Do not make it worse.”

 

Archie nodded in agreement. He’d guessed that he might have been out of line with his questioning earlier. He’d just wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine. How was he to know that it would have actually upset her? 

 

How was he supposed to know the Coopers were -- officially -- broken up?

 

“I didn’t realize that they had ended things,” he tried to explain. “Betty has been spending so much time with Jughead lately, and I’ve been busy with Ronnie, no one ever told me that they were getting a divorce. And my dad was telling my mom how Mrs...Alice was in love! The other day. On the phone.”

 

“ _ Wow _ ,” FP drawled. “You know, Alice told me that you were oblivious. I didn’t think it was this bad, Red. You... _ watched _ us on the porch earlier today.”

 

“I was watching to make sure Mr. Lodge left. I really think he’s mad at me for breaking that blood promise.”

 

“Probably because he is,” he pointed out. “That was possibly the stupidest thing you've  _ ever  _ done, by the way.”

 

“Everyone keeps saying that,” he sighed. “My dad, Betty’s mom, Kevin’s dad,  _ Veronica _ ,” he sighed. “Even Mrs. Lodge asked me what I was possibly thinking. I just didn’t think it was a big deal,” he admitted. “He’s my girlfriend’s dad.”   
  


“Hiram Lodge is a dangerous man,” FP replied, after a moment of silence, only punctuated with Ms. Smith’s snores. “You’re not the only one he’s fooled. He’s probably been trying to finagle this ever since he heard about your dad’s little...dalliance with his  _ lady _ .” 

 

“He was in jail!” Archie knew that was a poor defense of his father’s actions. FP snorted.

 

“Oh,  _ please _ , Red. Your father knew what he was getting into. He had to. Even  _ I  _ knew what he was getting into and I was three sheets to the wind back then. Don’t give me that shit.”

 

Archie let out a huff. 

 

“I get that you had a hard year,” FP said after a moment. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to have a hard year? Shit, kid, I’ve had a hard  _ decade _ . I get why that would lead you to making a dumbass decision --”   
  


“I bought her that bow,” he said. “The bow that Mr. Cooper strangled her with. I thought she loved me. Everyone else thought she was a  _ predator _ .” 

 

“Are you talking about the music teacher?” Archie nodded. “That’s not love, kid. That’s some screwed up adult taking advantage of you.”

 

“How do you know about Geraldine? Did my dad…?”   
  


“No, your old man didn’t say a word,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I imagine he thought denial would protect you. Alice told me. We  _ do _ talk, you know. We don’t just make out.”

 

It took Archie a moment to process FP’s comment, his eyes widening at the implications of the statement. He supposed it made sense, and more pressingly it explained all those comments that Kevin and Ronnie kept making about #falice (when he’d asked what it was they had thought the question was  _ hilarious _ and he had just...gone along with their laughter). FP’s comments about being a family together made more sense now, too. He had assumed that they were renting out rooms, or something. 

 

“You’re... _ together _ ?” 

 

“Yes, we’re together,” a sleepy voice confirmed. “We have been for months.” Alice Smith yawned. “I won’t mention how poor your observational skills are.”

 

“You must be tired,” FP murmured, and (with his newfound knowledge), Archie could see that he was treating her with a level of tenderness that clearly signified dating. Or, at least, going steady. “You can go back to sleep, Al. I’ll wake you up when we get there.”


	11. (i feel) alone (and tired)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aw, Al, you’re not going to let Fred and me restart The Fred Heads? Why not? We thought we’d use the living room.”
> 
> Jughead had to admit it was sort of strange watching his dad flirt with his girlfriend’s mother, but, hindsight told him, he and Betty had apparently been rather oblivious to their mutual flirting. (What else could one say to describe comments about sexual frustration?) And it was nice seeing them both so happy.
> 
> “I might let you…” She trailed off. “The Fred Heads? Come up with a better name.”

“I really am sorry,” Archie said. “I shouldn’t have called her Mrs. Cooper after she told me not to.”

 

“I think she’ll forgive you,” FP assured him. “It’s just, she was hurt too,” he said, trying to find the words to explain to Archie why exactly Alice no longer wanted to be referred to as Mrs. Cooper. He didn’t think that it would have been that difficult a concept to understand, but, as always, he’d underestimated Archie Andrews and his particular brand of obtuseness. “Hal...he hurt her.” 

 

“Yeah, I know,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I saw her throat. Betty told me...it was in the paper.”

 

“It’s sort of like how your ...encounters with Ms. Grundy are hard for you to talk about,” he continued. “Alice is embarrassed about what happened to her, throughout her marriage, not just what Hal did to her at the end of it. So she doesn’t like to talk about it and maybe that’s not entirely healthy for her to do but if it help make her feel like he didn’t break her, I am not going to let your  _ stupidity _ stop it.”   
  


“Geraldine,” he corrected. “She told me to call her Geraldine.”

 

FP managed to avoid rolling his eyes at Red, pretending instead to care very deeply about the route that he had memorized over the course of the past ten days. He had regretted agreeing to take Archie to visit Jughead the second he had opened his mouth at Fred’s, but had managed to grit his teeth and bear it. Archie was Jughead’s friend, no matter how utterly infuriating FP had found him lately, and it would probably do Jughead some good to see him, even if every other sentence he said was either eye roll worthy or made FP want to punch him. He supposed that it wasn’t entirely Red’s fault. He would have been traumatized too, with the year he’d had. 

 

“She was a  _ predator _ ,” he stressed. “I know that you probably think Al ruined whatever fucked up thing you two had going on because you think that you and Grundy were meant to be or some utter bull that she cooked up about what would happen if you kept quiet about her...I don’t know how to say it, but, whatever Grundy said to you to make you feel that her behavior was normal? It wasn’t true.”

 

“She said we would be able to be open about ourselves after I was done with high school,” Archie said after a moment. “You really don’t think that was true?”   
  


“People like that...they move on,” he settled on. “There’s someone younger, there’s someone newer, there’s someone they can manipulate like they were able to manipulate you in the beginning of things, when you were careful.” 

 

“Betty’s mom said that what she was doing was illegal.”

 

“Because it  _ was _ , Red. Those laws are in place for a reason. You were  _ fifteen _ . If you were my kid…”   
  


“What?”   
  


“I dunno,” he admitted. “I don’t think I’ll ever know the answers to how to fix things, how to make things right. I’ve done a whole lot of screwing up raising Jughead.” And now FP was going to get the chance to screw up Jellybean’s life, in addition to Jughead’s. He didn’t know what Gladys was thinking. What had their kids done to deserve two screwed up parents, one of whom was quite content to fob them both off on him, the second either of them jeopardized her fresh start in Toledo? “Think we’ve all screwed up, honestly.”

 

“Jughead loves you,” Red said after a moment. “I don’t think you screwed him up, Mr. Jones.” 

 

“Maybe it wasn’t me. Maybe it was this town. I don’t know. Don’t know much of anything anymore.”

 

The silence enveloped the truck, only punctuated by Alice’s quiet snores, her body tucked against his, and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer than he would have normally dared. Archie had turned his gaze to the window, anyways. 

 

Not that there was any point in keeping their relationship hidden anymore. 

 

Hal was in jail, hopefully on a permanent basis, and Gladys and his divorce papers had already been signed. He wasn’t even sure if Gladys had bothered to  _ call _ Jughead. It had been all he could do to convince her to allow Jellybean to finish the school year out in Toledo. He wasn’t that great with how school worked, or being the best father, or any of that, but he didn’t want to screw the kids up more than he already had. And, now, there weren’t just  _ his _ kids to consider. Alice had kids, too, and their father was rotting in a county jail cell probably wishing he could murder his cellmate for being a sinner. 

 

He had always hated Hal Cooper. But even though he was never going to be their father, even if he and Alice got married (sometimes FP thought of a world where they  _ could _ get married and have a normal fucking life, and then he woke up in the suburban version of  _ hell  _ and got over that real fucking quick). FP knew that he wasn’t going to be considered anything more than FP, considering that Betty was dating Jughead and he was pretty sure that he was part of the reason Polly was going to be staying at Cheryl Blossom’s house instead of with her mom (yeah, FP wasn’t that stupid -- he knew where he stood with Polly Cooper -- he just really didn’t care to clue Alice in to the fact that her daughter probably blamed both of them for Jason Blossom’s death). That didn’t mean that he couldn’t still consider them in his actions. That was what normal people did, wasn’t it? 

 

Yeah. He was pretty sure that was what normal people did.

 

“We’re here,” he said, pulling up to the parking lot of the rehabilitation facility, which he had to admit barely looked anything like a hospital, or a home for troubled youth that he had mentioned once out loud, only to fall silent when he’d seen the look on his girlfriend’s face. He’d decided to drop the subject. “You can go ahead if you want,” he offered. “Or you can wait for Alice and me.” 

 

“Jughead won’t mind me going ahead?” Red asked. FP shrugged.

 

“I don’t see why he would. You’re his friend, aren’t you? Even if you act like a dumbass more than I’d like.”

 

“I don’t know where he is,” he replied, and FP stilled. He’d wanted one stolen moment with Alice without the redheaded teenager looming in the background, but, well, Red did have a point. He sighed. 

 

“Just wait for us,” he said. “Get out of the truck, Red. Alice will probably want to make herself presentable again.” 

 

FP always thought that Alice looked good, no matter how she looked, but if it was something that was important to her, he was going to make sure it happened. He waited until Andrews climbed out of the truck and shut the door, before gently shaking Alice’s shoulder. “Gotta get up, babe,” he said. “We’re here, and I don’t trust Red to not wander off.”

  
  


***

  
  


“What exactly are you confused about?” Jughead found it in himself to ask, once Archie had paused for breath, after rambling on about many different things that worried Jughead in  _ numerous _ ways that his best friend was  _ confused _ about. He found himself pitying his father and Betty’s mother. It had only been about five minutes and Archie was exhausting him. “Can you clarify?”

 

“Your dad and Betty’s mom are  _ dating _ ,” Archie settled on, his eyes wide. It was almost comical. Jughead would have laughed if laughing didn’t still cause his ribs to ache. “How does that work? Does that make you sister and brother?”   
  


“Why would that make us sister and brother?” He asked. “They’re just dating,” he pointed out. “It’s not like they’re getting married.”   
  


“But they  _ could _ ,” Archie pointed out. “Your dad says they’re both getting divorced.” 

 

“Alice is getting divorced from her husband who  _ tried to murder her _ , Archie.” The fact that he had to spell this out didn’t comfort Jughead very much. “I really don’t think she’ll be jumping at the gun to go for marriage number two. And why is my parents getting divorced news to you? Mom didn’t even come up when Dad was in jail and my ass was supposedly in foster care. She’s barely even called me, and she knows where I am. She knows that I got hurt. My phone number hasn’t changed.”

 

“And even if Dad did marry Alice, that wouldn’t make myself and Betty related by blood,” he sighed. “We’d be stepsiblings, sure, but I don’t think that would change anything between us. We’re kind of used to dysfunction.” 

 

Archie seemed to ponder this. Jughead bit back a sigh. “While we are on the subject of things that cause confusion,” he said, sitting up on the bed. “How is it that you  _ still _ don’t understand that what you and Grundy had wasn’t a real relationship?”   
  


“Your dad says she was a predator,” Archie helpfully supplied. “I just...maybe he’s right and maybe Betty’s mom was right and we should have had her arrested. I just always thought she’d come back for me when I got older, and when Betty’s mom forgot about what we did in high school.”

 

Jughead was spared from responding himself (inwardly he thought that the chances of Alice forgetting anything, especially something as serious as a teacher taking advantage of a student, were slim to none), when his dad and Alice returned to the room, clearly having exhausted all ways of evading quality time with Archie.

 

“I wouldn’t have forgotten, Archibald,” she said, her tone smooth. “I have the memory of an elephant when it comes to all of the ways you have put Elizabeth in danger over the years, and that includes your false-identifying predator of a music teacher. But it’s nice to know that we’re still beating that dead horse.” She turned to Jughead, who was shooting her a grateful look. Archie’s comment had just been ridiculous. “Exciting news, Jughead,” she said. “Your father and I heard that you’re recovering enough to go home soon.”

 

“Yeah, dude,” Archie chimed in, and Jughead dearly hoped he had the sense to read the room and switch conversational tactics. “You get to live across the street from me now. We can have jam sessions!”

 

“ _ Where _ will you be having ‘jam sessions’?” Alice queried. “Because if you think you’ll be having them in my house you have another thing coming. I will not have you coming over at all hours of the night to have  _ band rehearsal _ .”

 

“Aw, Al, you’re not going to let Fred and me restart The Fred Heads? Why not? We thought we’d use the living room.” 

 

Jughead had to admit it was sort of strange watching his dad flirt with his girlfriend’s mother, but, hindsight told him, he and Betty had apparently been rather oblivious to their mutual flirting. (What else could one say to describe comments about sexual frustration?) And it was nice seeing them both so happy. 

 

“I might let you…” She trailed off. “The  _ Fred Heads _ ? Come up with a better name.”

 

“Wasn’t the one who came up with it, baby,” he said. (Jughead rolled his eyes.) “Besides, Red  _ has _ a soundproofed garage. They can practice there.”

 

“Is it safe for me to come home?” Jughead asked, feeling exhausted at the thought. “I’m not like...going to get jumped walking to school with Betty or anything, am I?”

 

“We live on the Northside, now, boy-”   
  
“You and Elizabeth will  _ not _ be walking to school-”

 

“I thought you said that we were  _ safe _ -”

 

Jughead regretted asking his question as his father, Alice, and Archie all started speaking at the same time, none of whom managed to actually answer his question with anything that vaguely comforted him. 

 

“I said that they wouldn’t be walking to school  _ because _ of you, young man,” Alice said, overpowering both FP and Archie into silence. Jughead was impressed. “Because of your inability to attend your studies, I will now be  _ driving  _ all of you there. There, and back.”   
  


“My dad-”

 

“I really don’t think he’ll mind,” she said. “I mean, really, if that’s the fight he’s going to pick with me he has bigger issues.” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “To answer your question, Jughead, yes, it’s safe. I promise that there are no boogeymen lurking about in the rose bushes. The only threat to my sanity is Archibald, and the terribly written articles that the Register is publishing lately.”

 

“How bad are they?” Jughead dared to ask.

 

Archie opened his mouth. “I thought that they were making up lies about everyone, but now I wonder if they’re true, I mean, since your dad and Betty’s mom are really #falicing.” 

 

“What?”

 

“That’s what Kevin calls the two of you dating, Mr. Jones.” Jughead got the sense that Archie was worryingly proud of getting to explain this. “Apparently the two of you are #DILFandMILFgoals.”

 

His father looked confused. Alice looked torn between flattered and appalled. He let out a heavy sigh. “Why do you tell them these things?” He asked. “Do you really think they needed to know that they’re DILF and MILF goals? Why would you find that appropriate to discuss?”

 

“He asked!”

 

“Sometimes, Archie, you need to listen to your inner voice, that tells you when things are dangerous ideas. Or better yet, develop one.”

 

“What’s a DILF?”

 

“It’s a-”   
  


“ _ Nothing _ , FP,” Alice said. “I will explain later. When we’re alone.” Thank heavens for small mercies, Jughead thought to himself. “It was an inappropriate comment and Kevin should have known better.”

 

The bed dipped, as his dad dropped down beside her, with about the grace of an elephant, and all he could hope for was Archie not getting any ideas. He did not want to have his healing derailed by his best friend accidentally trampling him. The thought of going home was nice, even if (especially if) it wasn’t home to the trailer park. Jughead loved his dad and he knew that he did the best that he could, but it would be nice to have a bedroom to himself, vs the pullout couch, or sharing a room with his dad, again. He was grateful that Alice and Betty had taken them in, along with the other Serpents that were living there. 

 

“Have you heard from Polly?” He asked. 

 

“Indirectly,” she said, pursing her lips. “She’s coming back, but she spoke to Cheryl, not me.”

 

“She still hasn’t spoken to Betty?” He asked.

 

Alice shook her head. “No. I don’t think so.”

  
  



	12. and on our 16th birthday (we got matching tattoos)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Shackin’ up,” he said, flashing a toothy grin at her. “Don’t you read the Register? It’s like the talk of the town.”
> 
> “Those articles are true?” She demanded, crossing her arms. She had thought Hiram was running them in the hopes of discrediting Alice, not because of any truth to them. “You and Alice...are together? Again?”
> 
> “I sure hope so,” he said, smirking. “Or this will be awkward to explain to her.” Hermione stared. “Yeah, we are. Together.”

“Is there something that you wanted, Hermione?” Hermione Lodge heard the question, a perfectly reasonable question, and jumped about a mile when she realized that the person that had answered the Coopers’ front door was definitely not Alice, but rather FP Jones of all people. She had known that the Serpents had taken refuge on the Northside, but Hiram had been certain that they had done so with Fred, not with the Cooper family. “Or have you just come by to annoy everyone?”

 

“What are you doing here?” 

 

Perhaps it wasn’t the best reaction she could have had, but Hermione was confused by the situation she had stumbled upon, that being a shirtless FP Jones answering the front door rather than Alice, her favorite frenemy. 

 

“Shackin’ up,” he said, flashing a toothy grin at her. “Don’t you read the  _ Register _ ? It’s like the talk of the town.”

 

“Those articles are  _ true _ ?” She demanded, crossing her arms. She had thought Hiram was running them in the hopes of discrediting Alice, not because of any truth to them. “You and Alice...are together? Again?”   
  


“I sure hope so,” he said, smirking. “Or this will be awkward to explain to her.” Hermione stared. “Yeah, we are. Together.”   
  


“I thought that..never mind,” she settled on. “Is she here?” 

 

“That depends,” FP told her, blocking the door with his frame. “What business does a person like you have coming around to bother my  _ girlfriend _ ? My Queen? If this is Serpent business, you can just come to me. Like old times.”

 

“It’s not!” Hermione insisted. She wanted nothing to do with FP like ‘old times’. She still had nightmares about that snake at Pop’s Diner. “I just wanted to talk to her,” she settled on. “Is that acceptable enough for you?”   
  


“About what?” He asked. “Come to tell her how horrible she is because her husband whacked people off?”   
  


“I would never do that,” she said. “Have people been doing that?”

 

FP snorted. “Of course people have been doing that,” he said. “Welcome to the world of the little people, Hermione. We actually have to deal with the consequences of what we and those we associate with do.” What could she say to that? It wasn’t like Jones was wrong, Hermione knew that. 

 

“It’s about the kids,” she said. “It’s important.” 

 

Jones raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Husband involving more people in blood promises they don’t understand?”   
  


She cringed. “I didn’t know that he did that. I wouldn’t have wanted that.”   
  


“Well, now Red is fucked,” he muttered. “So forgive me for not caring about what you wouldn’t have wanted. The smart thing that you could have done was telling  _ your daughter _ to stay away from  _ Fred’s son _ .”

 

“Right. Like you two told Betty and Jughead.”

 

“You don’t see Alice and me trying to  _ kill each other’s children _ ,” he exclaimed. “I don’t care what you think about me, Hermione, I know you think I’m Southside Scum, but don’t you dare compare our children to yours. We never fought dirty. Our issues were  _ never _ about the kids. And if you don’t believe me, why not stop by Shankshaw and ask Hal Cooper? Even he never tried to kill Jughead.”

 

“What are the two of you fighting about?” Hermione heard, thankfully saving her from trying to come up with a retort, as Alice walked into her field of sight, hopefully en route to calling off FP Jones. “Jonesy?”   
  


“We weren’t fighting,” he said. “I just wanted to state my opinion on some things. That’s all. We weren’t fighting.” 

 

Hermione begged to differ. “Alice,” she said. “I was wondering if I could trouble you with my company. I didn’t realize you were already indisposed.” She shot FP a glare. “Perhaps I should come back, when you’re not busy.”   
  


“ _ I’m _ not busy,” she said. “Jonesy is just doing some work around the house. So, what can I do for you?”

 

She averted her eyes when she caught a glimpse of FP’s  _ ridiculous _ tattoo, which had looked as foolish as it had the day that he’d gotten it back when they’d been friends with each other, back in high school. When the lines between the North and the South Sides of town hadn’t been so blurred. When it had been Hermione and Fred and FP and Alice, sitting in a booth at Pop’s, sharing milkshakes without a care in the world. What had  _ happened _ to them? She could blame it on growing up, moving on, but was it really?

 

“I just wanted to see how you and Betty were holding up,” she said, deciding that honesty was the best policy. “With Hal...and everything. I thought maybe you could use a friend.” This was true. “But, I can see that you’ve filled that role.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll just be going.”

 

“Wait,” Alice said. “I don’t know that I would call us friends anymore,” she continued. “But you can stay for a cup of coffee or something if you want.”

 

“Wine?”   
  


“No,” she said. “I don’t keep it in this house anymore.” 

 

“Coffee is fine, then,” she decided. FP eyed her warily. “You can join us, if you want.” That was Hermione. Ever polite, even in the face of her former friend’s blatant rudeness. “I’m sorry that Hiram fired you,” she offered.

 

“I don’t care about Hiram firing me. Why would I want  _ anything _ to do with him? No one told me he owned Pop’s when I got the job there.” He said, crossing his arms. “Is that what you want, Al? Me joining the two of you?”

 

“If you don’t mind,” she replied. “But, don’t worry about me, I can handle Hermione.”

 

“I’m just going to grab a shirt,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

 

“What is your angle, Hermione?” Alice asked, after FP had headed up the stairs, and Hermione dared to breathe a sigh of relief. “Is this a  _ trap _ ? Because I meant what I had Sierra serve your husband. That paper is mine.”

 

“You can have the paper,” she said. “FP Jones?”   
  


“What about him?”

 

“You’re  _ dating _ him again? What happened to getting out?”   
  


“Been there, did that, look where it got me,” she muttered. “I’m tired of pretending to be someone I’m not, Hermione. I love FP enough that I got over disavowing the Southside. I don’t want to end up like  _ you _ .”

 

“What do you mean by that?”

 

“You’re not stupid, Hermione, you can figure it out. Or, I suppose, I could tell you?”   
  


Hermione followed Alice as she headed into the kitchen, her eyes widening as she took in the new state of the Cooper home. It appeared that Alice (or someone else, she supposed, it could have been FP) had taken it upon herself to redecorate the place.    
  


“What are you looking at?” Alice asked. “Have you come here to mock me?”

 

“No,” she said. “I just...like what you’ve done with the place.” She shrugged. “It’s...different.”

 

“Well, I’m different, too,” Alice replied. “I told you, I’m tired of pretending to be someone I’m not.”

 

FP came into the kitchen, clad in a t-shirt and one of those flannels Hermione often saw him in, thankfully not a lick of Serpent wear or tattoo in sight. 

 

“Oh, you’re still here,” he said. “Thought maybe I scared you off.”

 

Her jaw dropped. Alice scowled. “Forsythe Pendleton!” She exclaimed. “That is not how we treat our houseguests! You  _ cannot  _ threaten our old friends!”

 

“It’s okay, Alice,” she muttered. “We all know we haven’t been friends in a long time.”

 

“It is  _ not _ okay. Apologize, FP,” she commanded, crossing her arms. “I would do so now, rather than later.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Hermione heard herself say, and she wanted to clap a hand over her mouth, but she refrained. “FP doesn’t have to apologize,” she continued. “I shouldn’t have involved him and the Serpents in Hiram’s dealings, I should have done better to keep the kids...keep the kids safe, I shouldn’t have come back to Riverdale,” she added, shaking her head. “I wanted a familiar place to come home to. But nothing was the same.”

 

“It’s been  _ twenty years _ ,” Alice said. “You moved off to New York, never to return, and you thought that 20 years could pass and you could come crawling home and things would be the same? Why the hell would you think that? We were  _ kids _ when you left, Hermione. Nothing stays the same.”

 

“I didn’t think Hiram was getting out of jail, okay?” Hermione hadn’t meant for the confession to slip out, but slip out, it had. “I wanted to start over. I wasn’t trying to lead Fred on, or ruin everyone’s lives. Not at first. I was flattered that Fred wanted anything to do with me after what I’d been a party to.” 

 

“And now he’s trying to kill the kids, and he’s gotten Veronica and Archie involved in his  _ twisted world _ , and look at where being a bystander got Jughead. I am sorry, FP. I didn’t want Jughead to get hurt. I hope he’ll be alright.”

 

“He will be,” FP said. “No thanks to that husband of yours.”

 

“ _ Enough _ , Jonesy,” Alice said, and Hermione watched her eyes flicker from his to hers and back to his, her hand on his arm. “I think that Hermione might be familiar with what Hiram does. She doesn’t need you to remind her. Now,” she continued. “Why don’t we have some coffee, and some of these cakes that I made, and we can try to all get along?”   
  


“Cakes? Special occasion?” Hermione asked. She was curious.

 

“Polly is coming back,” the blonde replied. “So I decided to test out some new recipes.” 

 

“I’m sure that she’ll love them,” she tried. Alice shook her head.

 

“They’re not for Polly,” she said. “It’s just another pathetic excuse for what I do with my life. Off the two of you go,” she said. “Into the living room.”

 

“Is she okay?” Hermione dared to ask FP, watching Alice in the kitchen with wary eyes, wondering what the blonde meant by her last comment. “Alice? Not Polly.”   
  


“Are any of us okay?” He replied, flicking a lighter as he did. “You know Alice,” he said. “She’s trying to find something she can control in this fucked up life of ours.” He shrugged. “I dunno about Polly. I think there’s something wrong with that girl.”

 

“Her father is a serial killer,” she whispered. “And he’s constantly telling the media how darkness runs in his family. Do you think it’s true?”

 

“He’s a Blossom,” FP muttered, taking a pack of cigarettes off of the end table. “They’re all insane, in some ways more than others. Everyone has their problems, though.” He sighed. “So, if Alice wants to stress bake, who am I to stop her? It’s good preparation for when Jug comes home.” 

 

“When is that?” Hermione queried. 

 

“Tomorrow, supposedly,” he said. “I just hope that it’s the right thing for him. Coming home.” She watched him fumble with the pack of smokes, whether it was out of nervousness or something else, Hermione didn’t know. If he was nervous with her in the house, she really couldn’t blame him. “Want one?”   
  


“That’s alright,” she demurred, sitting on the chair that was facing the couch he was on. “Well…” 

 

“I don’t bite,” he said. “If you think it’s a trap, it’s not.”

 

“I don’t think it’s a trap,” she said hastily. “I just…” 

 

“What?” He asked. 

 

“I’ll take one.” She makes a motion for the pack, the semi-thoughts that she had about telling FP Jones how scared she was about Hiram being shoved aside for the simplicity of taking the peace offering. “Alice won’t mind?”

 

“Says it’s not the worst habit I’ve picked up,” he said, lighting the cigarette and handing it to her, before stretching out on the sectional. “Insists on me using these ashtrays, though.” He gestured to the fancy container on the table, and, well, trust Alice to have color coordinating ashtrays, Hermione thought to herself. “I’ve been sober for six months now.”

 

Had it really been six months since Hiram had come back? Since Fred was shot? She had lost track. Wasn’t that terrible?

 

“Is that why Alice isn’t drinking anymore?” She asked. 

 

“It was her idea.”

 

“Are the two of you getting along?” Alice asked, carrying a pot of coffee with three mugs with one hand and a  _ gigantic _ cake in the other. Hermione moved to help her, but FP was faster, crossing the room to take the cake from her arms, placing it on the table. “Well?”

 

“Yes,  _ mother _ ,” FP said, and Hermione watched in bafflement as the comment elicited an actual giggle from Alice instead of a murderous glare or a smack. “We’re behaving ourselves, Al. I even shared with her.”

 

“That’s very good of you,” Alice said, and she watched them kiss, before FP pulled away from her and took the tray, placing that beside the cake as well. “I’m glad the two of you got along.”   
  


She took a sip of her coffee, content to observe the twosome for a moment, marveling how (despite 20+ years passing since high school) for FP and Alice it looked as if it was just yesterday. She didn’t know if part of it was putting on an act for her benefit, but, if it was, it certainly was a better act than she and Hiram managed. Of course, an elementary school play contained better actors than her and Hiram. 

 

“You two really love each other, don’t you?”   
  


 

***

  
  


“Yes,” Alice said softly, dropping her guard somewhat, still wary about Hermione’s presence, but content to be in FP’s arms. “We really love each other,” she confirmed. “It’s nice, being loved.”   
  
“I wouldn’t know,” Hermione said. She sighed. “Is it true that your divorce got finalized? How did it get finalized so quickly?”

 

Alice raised an eyebrow, curious by Hermione’s line of questioning. “Yes, that is true,” she confirmed. “But I had filed for divorce prior to Hal’s...little killing spree,” she allowed. “Perhaps the fact that he had tried to kill me hastened it somewhat, but I am dubious.” She took a drag of FP’s cigarette before continuing to speak. “Why do you care?”   
  


“I want to divorce Hiram,” she admitted. “I thought that you had some...unbelievably fast divorce lawyer, or something. I didn’t realize that you had already filed.”   
  


“He stepped out on me with his  _ cousin _ ,” Alice said flatly. “I mean, really, the adultery was all  _ I _ needed to be granted the divorce. He found out about my relationship with FP too late to countersue.” 

 

“What?”   
  
“Penelope Blossom,” she elaborated. “Horrible woman.”

 

“You got a divorce based on  _ adultery _ ?” Hermione repeated. “In 2017?”   
  


“I’m Alice Smith,” she said, flipping her hair. “We live in New York,” she added. “Did you think I was stupid?”   
  


“No, of course not,” she said. “How?”

 

“Oh, you know,” Alice said, flippantly. “I had an independent witness and almost got strangled to death, it was downright  _ easy _ .”

 

“I’d  _ love _ if you would stop taking that second part so lightly,” FP muttered, as he tugged her closer to him. “Could have killed you.”

 

“Okay, honey,” she whispered. “If it bothers you that much.” She collected herself. “So...what are you asking, Hermione?”

 

“I want to be able to testify against him,” she said. “When his trial resumes.”

 

“Interesting,” she said. “And...you were hoping I had some  _ magical _ divorce wizard attorney that would make things go poof?”   
  


“Trial?” FP focused on. “What trial?”

 

“He’s out on bail,” she said. “I was hoping that I could find someone willing to test-”

 

“Absolutely,” Alice said. “I would  _ love _ to tell Hiram’s parole officer how his actions have torn families apart, threatened their livelihoods,  _ destroyed _ neighborhoods. Oh, Hermione, this would be like my  _ dream _ . And the chaos he’s caused in the lives of the  _ children _ . Please let me.”   
  


“You would do that?”

 

“In a heartbeat. Oh, do I get to talk to the FBI? I’ve never done that!”

 

“You might,” she said. “You might have to talk about Hal, though.”

 

“That’s fine,” she decided. “I mean, I can’t avoid talking about him forever, can I? That would be unrealistic. And probably unhealthy.”   
  


“I was hoping to convince Fred, but…”

 

“Don’t bother,” she said. “Hiram will use your relationship against you. But, me? What relationship do  _ we  _ have? I hate him and don’t sleep with you.” She beamed. “Is he really giving the paper back to me? I didn’t even have my day in court.” 

 

“He says you had a point about his association with The Black Hood looking bad for him.”

 

“Well, duh, you don’t need to be an investigative reporter to figure that out,” she said, curling up into FP’s side, enjoying the feel of being in his arms. “But it does help, I mean, that  _ was _ an expensive degree I got. I’m glad I get the chance to use it to state the obvious.” She smiled softly as FP pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You hungry?” She asked, mainly directing the question at her boyfriend, but at Hermione as well. It was sort of pointless to ask FP if he was hungry -- he was the parent that Jughead had inherited his hunger from after all -- but she still wanted to be polite. “The cake should be cooled enough to eat, now.”

 

Maybe part of Alice’s falling into baking was out of a desire to provide some semblance of a home for the younger members of the Serpents who had been grateful for the safe place to stay at night, the sense of security that some of them had clearly never experienced for a long time, if ever (FP had been one of those when they were younger, before the baby, before she’d left him without a goodbye, and she’d often wondered what might have happened in his life if he had  _ anyone _ in his life to be stable, outside of the gang.) Baking wasn’t a new past time for Alice, far from it, but she had been doing it a lot more lately, now that she had Jonesy back, and she’d wanted to  _ try _ , for him. How could she tell FP he had to stay sober if she was downing a bottle of wine a night? It would have been beyond hypocritical. 

 

So she’d gotten rid of the liquor (she’d given it to Fred Andrews, or, rather, thrown it all in his garage, who knew who had found it), ordered the color coordinating ashtrays (Alice wasn’t an idiot, after all. She probably could have coaxed FP into smoking outside, but she wasn’t sure that she was going to be able to sell the idea on the other Serpents, and she really didn’t want to try. The ashtrays were her version of a compromise. And the look on Elizabeth’s face had been priceless), and taken the black card and ordered herself a new bedroom set and a new living room set. (She was not going to sleep in the bed that her husband had laid beside her in, nor was she going to sit and host people on a couch she’d been strangled on). 

 

And if she baked a  _ bit  _ more than she usually had? Oh well. There were worse ways for her to deal with her demons. 

 

She plated slices for FP and Hermione, before cutting herself a piece. 

 

“How is Veronica?” She asked. “Is she okay?”

 

The immediate days after  _ that night _ were mostly a blur, if she was honest with herself, a blur filled with the constant presence of Elizabeth and FP (who had been taking lessons from Vegas in being constantly under foot), but out of the foggy recesses of her memory she remembered her conversation with the Lodge girl. Though whether that was because Archibald seemed content to torment her by his inability to retain her Hiram Lodge related wisdom or because she had been deeply affected by the raven haired little rich girl was a mystery that escaped her. 

 

“Not really,” Hermione said, after she finished her bite of cake. “She’s become disillusioned by her father as of late.”   
  


FP coughed. “Can’t really blame the kid,” he said. “Take it from someone who knows, though. It’s not fun when your child rejects you because you can’t get your shit together.”

 

“I don’t think she’ll  _ reject me _ .”

 

“I didn’t either,” he said. “And, yet.”   
  


“I didn’t think the girls would reject me either,” Alice said softly. “And yet Polly won’t come home and would rather stay with  _ Cheryl Blossom _ in that  _ house _ than have anything to do with me. And Betty...well…” She didn’t want to mention Chic out loud. “I’ve never thanked you for taking them in,” she added. “Both of you.”

 

“What a fucked up thing to have in common,” Hermione said. “And, yet, here we all are.”

 

“It’s strange, though,” she said. “Even though we all had our issues...with each other, in general, we all took care of each others children. Without question.” She stole one of FP’s cigarettes, followed by his lighter. “It almost seems like Fred is the only normal one of us.”   
  


“Maybe he just hides it better,” FP suggested. “You know, behind the facade of the functioning small business owner? I could see it.”

 

“Should we invite him to come over?” Alice asked. 

  
  


***

  
  


[ _ want 2 hang out? the four of us? like old times? _ ]

 

Fred read the text message for the fifth time, trying to process what exactly he was reading, beyond confused. Was it some sort of trap? Was it a call for help? Had Alice Smith finally cracked up? Why on earth would she be  _ texting _ him, asking if he wanted to come hang out (a phrase Fred was sure was not in her vocabulary), with her and FP (sure to be annoying, but within the bounds of sanity) and  _ Hermione _ . 

 

The hit that Columbia-educated Alice’s English had taken didn’t exactly provide Fred with comfort that this was the act of someone in a state of sanity. 

 

[ _ this isnt a joke. come over. _ ]

[ _ dont make me make jonesy drag u here by the hair _ ]

 

He really didn’t think that FP would want to drag him anywhere by the hair, but he was sure that Alice would convince him to if she really wanted him over there. He had long since figured out that making sure Alice was semi-satisfied with him was the way to maintain good neighborly relations with the blonde, and he supposed this was another burden he would have to bear for the sake of the neighborhood. 

 

No one really wanted Alice to explode. It wasn’t pretty.

 

[ _ I’m coming. _ ] 

 

It was a shame that he couldn’t enjoy his peaceful, child free, school day, but he supposed it would be nice to see old friends.

 

And there was always the hope that, with Hermione present, the juvenile delinquents known as Alice and FP would behave themselves in a manner befitting to society. Fred knew better. He did! But he needed to delude himself.

 

He couldn’t put Hermione through that  _ debacle _ alone, anyways. Even though he had been hurt that she’d left him for Hiram, having her be an audience of one to the Falice Makeout Club was not on his list of ways to torment her. 

 

Steeling himself for the horror that could await him, he rang the doorbell.

 

“Hi,” Hermione said, opening the door. “I’m glad you came over. Alice made cake.”

 

“Is she feeling okay?” He asked. “She seems to think we’re all hanging out. She used the phrase hanging out. She used numbers instead of words.”

 

“I think she’s  _ happy _ ,” she told him. “It’s very strange,” she added. “But she and FP...they seem very happy together.” Hermione shrugged. “I guess if they can keep themselves from falling apart while the whole world around us burns...we probably shouldn’t dissuade it.”

 

“They’re acting like horny teenagers,” he groused. “Yesterday they forgot I was there and almost made things entirely too intimate for who they were with, and where they were standing, which was me, and their front porch!”   
  


“They seem to be behaving, for the most part,” she said, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “I think it’s sweet, though, Fred. That they can go back in time.” Hermione sighed. “I’m filing for divorce.”

 

“What?”

 

“I can’t...I can’t keep letting Hiram do the things he’s been doing,” she explained. “Veronica is pushing us both away, he sees me as a means to an end, and I’m not...I don’t see the point anymore. And I don’t like what he did to Archie. Or Jughead.”

 

“I don’t like it either,” he said flatly, crossing his arms. He followed her into the living room, where the loving couple had taken up residence on their couch. He supposed he could see where Hermione had gotten sweet from. “I got your texts, Alice.”   
  


“I’m glad you came, Fred,” she said, sounding more sincere than he’d ever heard her sound before. “We have some exciting news for you.”

 

Horrible possibilities of what Alice could consider to be exciting news for Fred flitted in and out of his mind, each more horrific than the last. 

 

“What?”   
  


“We decided that you’re normal,” FP chimed in. Which was a relief given that he had been pretty sure that Alice was going to announce she and FP had gotten themselves in a repeat of their senior year. “You’re the normal friend.” 

 

He raised a brow. 


	13. if i risk it all, could you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Riverdale Register would like to clear up some details of the...more esoteric articles that Lodge Industries allowed to be published during my temporary leave of absence. I mean...the temporary leave of absence that the Register’s editorial team embarked upon in recent weeks.
> 
> While it is absolutely untrue that FP Jones and myself are sex addicts that are running a brothel out of my residence on the Northside of town, we are involved in a relationship that we accept has been publicized throughout the town without our consent. Please stop trying to catch glimpses of our ‘debauchery’ through your blatantly obvious drive-bys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided that Riverdale's version of Alice Cooper wouldn't have named Betty 'Elizabeth' and Polly simply Polly, so I used Margaret as Polly's given name.

Changes in the Riverdale Register (an editorial by owner and editor-in-chief Alice S. Smith)

 

_ As you all are most likely aware, and if you are not, I have to salute you for your commitment to live under rocks, or rely on the Register for our comics and horoscope sections, there have been some recent changes in the Riverdale Register. Harold Cooper is no longer employed with this paper.  _

 

_ Effective immediately.  _

 

_ The Register is also no longer under the hostile-takeover of Hiram Lodge’s Lodge Industries. In light of the events surrounding Mr. Cooper’s arrest, Mr. Lodge requested that we sever all ties with him and his company. This allows the Register to resume being an impartial presence in the lives of Riverdale residents. During times such as these, impartiality is an important aspect of being a paper of record, which the Register strives to be.  _

 

_ I would like to personally apologize for my articles that disavowed the Southside and its residents. I do not personally believe those attacks, and I regret writing them with all of the power of my being. The Southside is where I am from, and I am not ashamed of it.  _

 

_ The Riverdale Register would like to clear up some details of the...more esoteric articles that Lodge Industries allowed to be published during my temporary leave of absence. I mean...the temporary leave of absence that the Register’s editorial team embarked upon in recent weeks.  _

 

_ While it is absolutely untrue that FP Jones and myself are sex addicts that are running a brothel out of my residence on the Northside of town, we are involved in a relationship that we accept has been publicized throughout the town without our consent. Please stop trying to catch glimpses of our ‘debauchery’ through your blatantly obvious drive-bys.  _

 

_ The Register and myself would like to apologize for the terror that Harold caused the town to feel during the past few months. I regret not being able to figure out that he was the Black Hood every day of my life. I will always regret being blinded by my unhappiness in my marriage to miss that he was a serial killer. And I want to apologize to everyone that he hurt. _

 

_ Please contact the Riverdale Register if you have further questions, or if you want to submit an article for publication.  _

 

_ -Alice Smith _

 

“Mom!” Betty sounded beyond scandalized as she held up the morning’s paper, and Alice was unsure if the scandal was due to the fact that she had used the phrase ‘sex addicts’ or because Elizabeth had had the misfortune to burst into her and FP’s bedroom without knocking, so she had seen a bit less of them than she was sure her daughter had wanted to. “What are the two of you  _ doing _ ?”

 

“Elizabeth, really?” She shot her daughter an unimpressed look, though she shifted closer to FP so that the sheet was covering more of her body than it had been previously. “I don’t think I need to explain to you what we were doing,” she said. “Certainly you and Jughead are  _ intimately _ familiar with --”

 

“Why didn’t you  _ lock the door _ ?” She blustered, face the shade of a tomato. “We have guests, Mom. What if they needed something from either of you?”   
  
“Oh, please,” she said. “That was already dealt with. I simply told the others that they weren’t allowed in the King and Queen’s den, and that their little issues could be held until morning.”

 

“It would have been nice to have been included in that conversation,” Betty pointed out, holding the paper in front of her face, as a shield of sorts. “Just as general  _ warning _ .”

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling somewhat contrite. “Maybe locking the door wouldn’t be that bad of an idea.”

 

“I’m sorry, too,” Betty replied. “I didn’t think that...you and Dad  _ never _ ...I guess I was just surprised.” She sighed. “I came in to tell you that I liked your editorial,” she said, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “And to tell you that Jughead and I will help with the Register if you need us to.”   
  


“Thanks, baby,” she said, snuggling closer to FP, who was either pretending to still be asleep to avoid involving himself in the conversation or actually still sleeping. “Give me...like twenty minutes, okay? I’ll be up to bring you all to school.”

 

“You actually  _ meant _ that?” Betty demanded.

 

“You can blame Archie for that, darling,” she murmured. “It’s all his fault.”

 

Betty turned on her heel and exited the bedroom, slamming the door rather impressively behind her. Alice would have -- and meant to -- gotten up and yelled at her -- but FP was pulling her close to him, and he was much more appealing than dealing with her bratty teenager at the moment. 

 

“You were awake the whole time, weren’t you?” She asked, tone teasing, as she laid her head on his chest, enjoying the feel of his heartbeat. “It’s okay, Jonesy, I’m not mad.”

 

“I thought it was funny,” he said, running his hand down her side to settle on her hip. “Do you really need to bring the kids to school?”

 

“Yes,” she said. “I want to physically see Archibald Andrews enter that building with my own eyes, and I think it would be nice for you to come with us, so you can see Jughead off on his first day back. We can even take pictures!”   
  


“Jug won’t like that idea,” he warned. 

 

“Why not? It will be  _ sweet _ . We have to.”

 

“You can try,” he told her, as he stroked her bare knee with his fingertips. “There was something about your conversation, though...you and Cooper never…?”

 

“Not for awhile,” she said, snuggling close. “It was my decision,” she added. “He made me angry, so we stopped.” She wrinkled her nose. “He wasn’t very good, anyways.”

 

“What a shocker,” he drawled. “Cooper was lame in bed.”

 

“Maybe I should include that in the Register’s next expose,” she said, a smirk on her lips. “And mail a copy to him in person.”

 

“I’m not going to stop you,” he murmured. “Love you, Allie. You’re  _ definitely _ one of a kind.” He pressed his lips to hers. “Come on, we can do your back to school thing if you want.”

 

“I  _ do _ want to,” she said. 

  
  


***

  
  


Archie Andrews was pretty sure that he had been banned from going into Alice Smith’s home office in perpetuity (whatever that meant, he just remembered that he had spilled one  _ tiny _ two liter of soda on a computer in there and she had started to scream at him), but he decided to risk it. He couldn’t believe that Principal Weatherbee had decided to blame the entirety of the Southsiders for what had essentially been a Bulldogs and Serpents fight that had gotten out of hand. Sure, there had been destruction to the high school, but they had both been responsible. The fact that Weatherbee had insisted he and his fellow Bulldogs wouldn’t be in trouble hadn’t sat well with him. 

 

“Alice,” he said, having decided that was the least awkward way to refer to her, given the conversation he’d had with FP in his truck the other day. “I need to talk to you.”

 

“Archibald Andrews,” she said, her tone measured, and he watched as he took off her glasses and closed the laptop she’d had open, zipping it up in a case and putting it in a drawer, before beckoning him into the room. Hesitantly, he accepted her non-verbal invitation, taking care not to have any liquids on his person as he entered. “What are you doing here?” She queried. 

 

“You need to talk to Principal Weatherbee,” Archie told her. “He wants to have all the people from the Southside transferred out of district. He says he won’t have them destroying his school.”   
  


“I’m sorry, what?” She asked. Archie opened his mouth, obviously about to repeat himself, and she held out a hand. “No, I heard you, I was expressing disbelief. How absolutely preposterous. Weren’t  _ you _ involved in that destruction? Are they planning on pawning you and your little group of jocks on another district?”

 

“No,” he said, shifting uncomfortably, as she gave him an appraising look. Betty’s mother scared him, he wasn’t going to lie. “He says that they were the instigators, or something. I don’t think that’s very fair. They can’t help reacting to how they were treated when they came here.”

 

“Maybe you aren’t as dumb as I thought,” Alice said, though she pursed her lips. “This is absolutely asinine. Don’t you dare laugh at that word, Archibald.”   
  


“Of course not,” he agreed. “What are you doing?”

  
“Getting ready to go to that school,” she muttered. “And give him a piece of my mind. And you are coming with me.”   
  


“What?”   
  


“You get to come with me,” she repeated. “Come now. Did you want to take the bike?”   
  


“I don’t know how to drive Jughead’s motorcycle,” he said. 

 

“We’re taking FP’s,” she drawled. “And I’m driving. Do you think I would ever let you get behind the wheel?”

 

“You can drive a motorcycle?” Archie asked, his jaw dropping. Alice sighed. 

 

“Do you really think I forgot  _ everything _ I learned on the Southside?” She asked. “Yes I know how to drive a motorcycle. I know more than you think, Archie. Do you want to ride it or not?”   
  


Archie may have been dumber than Alice Smith would have wanted a friend of her daughter’s to be, but he wasn’t that stupid. Hell yes he wanted to ride on a motorcycle instead of a lame ass truck or station wagon.

 

“Sure,” he said. “Definitely.”   
  


 

***

  
  


“I need to speak with Waldo,” Alice Smith told the Principal’s secretary, fixing her with a pointed gaze, while Archibald stood behind her, holding both of their helmets. (He did need a purpose, after all). “Is he still here?”   
  


“He’s in a meeting with the Sheriff and Hiram Lodge at the moment,” the secretary said, barely acknowledging her presence. Alice did not approve. “You’re going to have to come back.”   
  


“I don’t think so,” she said, crossing her arms, a look of displeasure on her face. “If Waldo can spend his time fraternizing with two badly hidden criminals, he can engage me and my informant in conversation. How dare you imply I would ever take second fiddle to  _ Hiram Lodge _ ? Don’t you know who I am?”   
  


“The owner of the Riverdale Register,” she said, her tone bored. “You’ll have to get your quotes the same as everyone else.”   
  


“I’m not here because of an article!” Alice exclaimed. “And when I write an article about this sham of an excuse to embrace discriminatory practices at a  _ public high school _ , you will wish that I hadn’t. I’m from the Southside, too,” she snapped. “I don’t support your latest plot to punish people who had a bad start in life.”

 

“No, I am here as a parent,” she said. “And if you don’t tell Waldo that Mr. Andrews and I are here to see him, I will make him aware of the fact that we are on my own. You’ll find that I am entirely capable of making an entrance, Ms...Flutesnoot. I think I had your father as a teacher when I attended here.” She plastered a fake smile on her face. “You might ask him to tell you all about Alice Smith.”

 

“Come, Archibald,” she beckoned. “I won’t let Hiram hurt you,” she promised. “Truthfully, I think he’s scared of me.”

 

“Hello, Waldo,” Alice greeted the principal of the school, a deliciously evil grin on her face. “I promise I won’t dream of interrupting your meeting with our town’s  _ heroes _ for long,” she said. “I just wanted to let you know that I will be withdrawing Elizabeth and Margaret from the school. They’ll be going to St. Clare’s, where my money isn’t judged on the content of my pedigree.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Weatherbee asked. Hiram and the Sheriff had the gall to look bored. She decided she would deal with them next.

 

“Archibald here told me that they will no longer be allowed in this school,” she said. “You see, Waldo, when you decided to kick the Serpents out, you kicked out  _ my daughters _ . Which, by the way, is  _ also _ kicking out members of the Blossom family.” Alice locked her hand around Archie’s arm, sensing that the boy was about to run. “I am sure that would be very awkward to explain to people, would it not be?”

 

“You’ve  _ rejoined _ the Southside Serpents,” Hiram had the absolute gall to interject. “I guess you really  _ are _ crazy.”

 

“If you know what’s good for you, Hiram,” Alice said. “You’ll be quiet. See, not only are snakes often incapable of shedding their skins easily, leopards aren’t very good at changing their spots.” She turned her gaze to Minetta. “Thank you, Sheriff, for being so diligent at your job and  _ ever _ contacting me asking if I wanted to press charges against Harold for  _ strangling me _ and trying to kill me.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, wait, you didn’t see fit to, did you? Did Hiram here tell you about my past? You certainly had no problem lying to my family and friends about poor Fogarty. I’m sure that you thought I deserved to get strangled. Hiram probably wishes Hal had finished the job.”

 

Archie seemed to want to speak, so Alice dug her nails into his arm, in an attempt to quiet him. 

 

“How did you find out that was a lie?” Minetta asked, and Alice scoffed. 

 

“Are you serious?” She demanded. “I went to Columbia, you imbecile. I have a Master’s degree. Though, I’m pretty sure Juniper and Dagwood could have solved that mystery for the ages, given how poorly planned out it was. You want some ridiculous turf war to break out between the Ghoulies and the Serpents, so that the two of you can parade around claiming that you’re tough on crime when in reality, you’re the criminals. By the way, if you think I’m letting this slide? I’m  _ definitely _ not.”

 

“I feel that I didn’t think this through,” Waldo said, whether it was in an attempt to diffuse the situation or think out loud, Alice didn’t know, but she whirled around to face him, her aggravation clear. “It’s possible that in this case, I’ve made an error in judgement.” 

 

“What?” Hiram demanded. 

 

“Elizabeth Cooper is first in her class, Hiram,” the Bee said tiredly. “And Margaret Cooper is excelling in our correspondence courses,” he continued. “She’s second in her class, only behind Cheryl Blossom.” He sighed. “We can’t stand to lose Alice,” he added. “She’s the only one willing to head our PTA.”

 

“You’re going to let a  _ criminal _ do things with the children?” Minetta asked. 

 

“Yes, Waldo,” she said. “Are you really going to let a man like Hiram Lodge do things with our children? He’s on parole, you know,” she said sincerely. “You made poor FP go through all those hoops to attend school events, which, by the way, he did, and he was cleared of his charges. I filed a complaint about you, by the way, Sheriff. I can’t help but feel it was deserved.”

 

“How do you know that,” Hiram demanded. 

 

“I have connections,” she said, blithely. “Plus, I know how to use Google. Would you like to learn? There’s probably a class at the library. Try not to pilfer the books. New York City isn’t that far away, Hiram. If you wanted to escape your past you could have tried harder.”

 

Waldo Weatherbee looked awfully pale, and Alice would have felt bad for him, had she had any feelings beyond annoyance at best for the man and unbridled rage at the worst. Instead, she was just angry beyond all measure. What Archibald had told her had sent her over the edge. 

 

“This is a public school, Waldo, and those children live in Riverdale. In fact, thanks to these two wonderful people here, a great many of them live on the Northside. Nice job burning up the trailer park,” she said to them. “And trying to pin it on the Southside was just  _ brilliant _ . It’s almost like you are incapable of considering them people.”

 

“I understand, Alice,” Waldo interjected. “But the destruction--”

 

“Make them clean it up,” she suggested, her tone flat. “Give all the perpetrators, Northsiders and Southsiders alike, detentions. Harass the PTA for money to fix whatever precious items that broke that caused you to break, Waldo, because you  _ never _ used to be like this. I’m disappointed in you.” 

 

“Honestly, Alice, what do you want from me?” Hiram said. “I gave you back your stupid paper. The Ghoulies didn’t even kill your convict boyfriend’s son. I can’t help it if you came from the wrong side of the tracks and seem content to continue to prove it.”

 

“You leave Jughead out of this,” Alice said. “I saw what  _ you specifically _ wrote in that paper about myself and FP, and I am going to sue you for libel. You may think that you have the upperhand because you have that loose cannon Penny Peabody on your side, but I think you’ll find that she won’t want to cross me. Also, I’m not an idiot,” she continued. “You might spin this as some scuffle gone wrong, but unlike you, I’m not stupid. Did you know he told Reginald to shoot Fangs Fogarty?”   
  


“He killed Midge Klump!” Minetta exclaimed.

 

“Oh, please,” Alice said. “That isn’t funny. That was Hal, and you know it.” Alice felt her composure faltering, and not in a fear inducing way, as memories of that horrible night enveloped her memory. “How dare you make me relive one of the worst days of my life? Do you get your kicks out of it? And if you don’t know it, you’re a  _ disgrace _ to the town.” She could hear her voice break. “I’m sorry, Waldo. I’m still recovering.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. She was still recovering. She didn’t know if she ever really would. FP was helping, but two decades of a damaged marriage was difficult to overcome. “I should go home, rest. Have you reconsidered?” Poor Archibald. She was squeezing his arm awfully tightly. “FP will be wondering where I am.”

 

“I’ll let them stay,” he told her. “Want a lozenge? For your ride home?”   
  


Alice stared at the man, wordlessly accepting the candy. “Come, Archibald. We’re leaving.”


	14. look for the girl with a broken smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Definitely not,” FP and Alice said at the same time, though FP was certain they agreed for different reasons.

“Can you explain to me what happened?” FP  _ really _ did not want to put Archie Andrews in charge of explaining how on earth Alice had gotten into the current, weeping, state that she was in, but since Alice was currently weeping, what other choice did he have? “You’re not going to get in trouble, Red.”   
  


“We ran into Hiram and Minetta,” Archie supplied. “At the school. They were speaking to Principal Weatherbee when Alice and I showed up, and she insisted on going through to speak to him anyways. They wanted to kick all the Southsiders out of Riverdale High.”

 

“That made Alice cry?” He asked.

 

“No, that was probably when Minetta made that comment about Fangs,” he said. “Um, she said that he wasn’t the one that killed Midge and that the Sheriff was making her relive the worst moment of her life. She said that she needed to go home and rest, because of her throat. And, um, you. She said you would be worried about her.”

 

FP swore, running his hand down his face. “I ought to shut them both up --”   
  


“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Archie warned. “I mean, don’t you think that would get you arrested? Again? I think that Alice needs you here, rather than knocking people out.”

 

Dammit, he thought to himself, Red was right. Goddammit. Red being right was painful to admit. 

 

“Come here,” he said quietly, crossing the room to where Alice had curled up on the couch, sitting down beside her, and gently taking her into his arms. “It’s gonna be okay, Al,” he whispered, holding her close. “You know I love you,” he said, kissing her on the top of the head. “You don’t have to worry about that jackass hurting you anymore. And, screw the both of them for bringing it up and making you sad.” He hugged her tightly. “I promise, he won’t hurt you anymore.”

 

“You can’t promise me that,” Alice said brokenly. “What about if they make me see him in court? What if I have to talk to him?”   
  
“Al, if you have to testify in court, you have to testify in court,” FP said, his tone low as he rubbed her back. “And, yeah, it will suck, and it will be hard, but you won’t have to speak directly to him, and I’ll come with you. And I’ll stay the entire time.”   
  


“Okay, Jonesy,” she whispered. “I’ll be okay.” He let her curl up on his lap. Anything to make Alice feel better, he thought to himself, even if it meant that he was without things like his lighter and the cup of coffee he’d gotten on the way home. “You’ll never leave me?”

 

“You’re stuck with me,” he promised, tipping her chin up so he could kiss her on the lips. “No matter what happens, babe.”

 

“Archie is staring at us,” Alice murmured when she pulled away, and FP snapped his head around, leveling a glare at the boy. “Can we put him to use?”

 

“He could just go home,” he muttered. “Red!” He commanded. “Bring over that coffee and my lighter.” He could sort of tolerate Red’s presence if it benefited him. Only if the boy wasn’t being too hideously annoying. The problem was that Jughead’s oldest friend tended towards annoying more often than not. Still, Archie did as he was told. “Want a smoke?” He offered him. It was only polite, wasn’t it? 

 

“ _ Forsythe Pendleton _ !” Alice exclaimed. “What were you thinking?”

 

“Oh, please, Al,” he said. “You think he hasn’t been smoking cigars with Hiram?”

 

“Is that true, Archibald?” Archie looked like Alice had asked him a particularly difficult math problem. “Well?”

 

“Just a few Cubans,” Archie supplied after a moment. “What was I supposed to do, turn him down?”   
  


“Definitely not,” FP and Alice said at the same time, though FP was certain they agreed for different reasons. 

 

“Contributing to the continued delinquency of a minor,” Alice seethed. “Not to mention wasting all those expensive cigars on  _ you _ , young man.” 

 

“You think those were expensive?”

 

“Of course they were,” he said. “Anything that Lodge touches is more than any of us can afford, except maybe Alice.”  He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “Your mom, maybe,” he allowed. “Where is she, anyways?”

 

“Chicago,” Archie supplied. “You know how it is. She comes and goes.”

 

Truth be told, FP didn’t entirely know how it was, given that he had been wrapped in on himself (that was the polite way of referring to his actions since Fred had bought him out of the company, and if he wanted to be polite about something, dammit, he would), but he supposed that it made sense that Mary had finally gotten sick of living in the podunk town they called home and up and left. Mary had been the type of person who had had dreams, who had wanted to get the hell out of dodge and never come back. Fred, on the other hand, was a small-town guy. He couldn’t picture Fred being happy in a city like Chicago. It wasn’t a dig on either of the Andrews. It was a fact, plain and simple. 

 

“I’m sorry, kid,” he said, genuinely. “That has to suck.”

 

“We got into a fight the last times she was here, anyways,” he admitted. “I don’t think she’s very happy with me right now.”

 

“And why do we think that is?” Alice drawled, as she laid across the couch, using his lap as a pillow. “Was your fight perhaps about our beloved Mafioso?”

 

“No!” Archie insisted. “It was about Mr. and Mrs. Lodge!”

 

“For Christ’s sake,” she exhaled. “Who else would that Mafioso comment refer to? Honestly, Archie, your parents think that you hang the damn moon. What did you do to anger your mother?”

 

“She thought I was disrespecting my dad because I supported Hermione’s mayoral campaign,” he elaborated. “I’m still not entirely sure what you think is so wrong with it, by the way.”

 

“Good Christ,” he heard Alice mutter, her voice muffled by the material of his jeans. “I don’t know where to begin. Why on earth you were the person that Hiram picked to manipulate is beyond me when you ask these things. How do Elizabeth and Jughead put up with you?” She cleared her throat. “I’m pretty sure if I ran for Mayor, and my children decided to support someone that was the antithesis -- the exact opposite -- of all of which I believed, I wouldn’t be the happiest person on this earth.” 

 

“But, Dad said it was okay! He did!”

 

“He  _ lied _ to you,” she said. “Of course he said it was okay. I could tell your father I wanted to torch the neighborhood and if he sensed it wasn’t a battle he could easily win, he would probably say okay to me doing so. That’s the type of person your father is. He wouldn’t tell you how  _ horrifically _ insensitive you supporting Hermione Lodge’s campaign was, because your father is a good person. He’s like the human equal to a puppy. No wonder your mother is pissed off at you,” she groused. “Your father and I have our differences, but I would never stand with Hermione Lodge over him.”

 

“Why don’t you prove it?” Archie’s tone was surly, and FP cringed, hoping that if he provoked Alice she wouldn’t injure any sensitive parts of his anatomy. “Endorse my dad in the Register. What do you have to lose?”

 

“Fine,” she said, tone clipped. “I will. I’m not ashamed of knowing Fred Andrews.”

 

“You think I’m ashamed?” 

 

“I don’t know what you are, Archie,” she said flatly. “You continue to be an enigma. I think we can say that you definitely need to apologize to your father, however. I suggest you do so.” Archie had more sense than FP gave him credit for, and took the statement as a dismissal, turning on his heels and heading out the front door. When they heard the door slam behind him, Alice slowly sat up, stretching. 

 

“What are you doing?” He asked, missing the feel of her on him. “Don’t leave, pretty girl.”

 

“I’m coming back,” she promised, leaning over to kiss him. “Did you hear him? He doesn’t think that I’ll do it.”

 

“Do what?” 

 

“Endorse Fred Andrews for Mayor,” she said. “I want to do so before I put the paper to bed.” She ducked down for another kiss. “Then, maybe, I can put you to bed.”

 

“I like the sound of that,” he murmured. “You know, I could help you with your article,” he said. “Provide a fresh perspective.”


	15. some things we don't talk about

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What is wrong with you?” Toni asked Polly, whom Cheryl had shoved in the backseat with her children, and was continuing to complain about...was Polly seriously complaining that her mother was dating FP Jones? Still? Cheryl bit back a groan.

Cheryl Blossom hadn’t realized how annoying Polly Cooper was until she had agreed to pick the blonde and her beastly children up from the airport, because while the girl was able to accept Cousin Alice’s money (Cheryl truly emphasized with those poor souls that had been in first class on that flight, stuck with Polly and two miserable, screaming, babies) in order to fly back to Riverdale, she seemed incapable of putting up with the woman picking her up. So, in order to stop Cousin Alice’s crying, and in order to head off Cousin Betty getting all weirdly frightening, and because she didn’t want to hear Polly’s bitching about Betty’s hobo boyfriend and his father picking her and the twins up in a  _ pickup truck _ (she sensed it would have been something similar to this), she and Toni had agreed to do the airport run. 

 

“What is wrong with you?” Toni asked Polly, whom Cheryl had shoved in the backseat with her children, and was continuing to complain about...was Polly seriously complaining that her mother was dating FP Jones? Still? Cheryl bit back a groan.

 

“What’s wrong with  _ me _ ?” Polly demanded, her voice shrill. “My mother is dating the man that killed my fiance, that’s what’s wrong with me! Dad hasn’t even been in jail for that long, she is being  _ so _ disrespectful of him and Jason? And then she gets mad at me for being unhappy with her? Why shouldn’t I be un--”

 

“Oh, will you be quiet?” Cheryl asked Polly blandly, having had quite enough of the blonde’s rambling about how horrible her mother was for dating FP Jones, and how disrespectful it apparently was to Jason’s memory. “First of all, you sound absolutely deranged, Pollykins,” she said, pursing her lips together, trying to remain patient for the sake of her baby niece and nephew, and because she wanted to preserve Toni’s hearing. “I feel bad for Cousin Alice,” she told her. “I don’t care who she finds happiness with, nor do I want you to say another word about how much you think Jason would have hated it.” 

 

“He was your twin!” Polly exclaimed. 

 

“Yes, exactly,” she drawled. “Look, it’s very sad that Jason died, and I miss him every day,” she said, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “However, my  _ father _ was the one who murdered Jason, not FP Jones. And, honestly, Polly, it’s not like Jay Jay was a saint. You should have seen the things he wrote about you in that book of Chuck’s.” 

 

Cheryl drew in a deep breath, before continuing to spell out what she felt was the obvious, but sensed Polly might disagree on. “And, furthermore,” she said flatly. “Your parents’ marriage was over  _ long _ before FP and your mother started their relationship,” she felt like she was speaking to a small child. A stupid child. “Before your father started his affair with my mother, even,” she said. “Talk about disrespecting Jay Jay’s memory.”

 

“She’s stepping out on her marriage!” Polly exclaimed.

 

“I thought that Alice got divorced,” Toni interjected. “She wrote about it in the Register, I thought? When she called out the Lodges? And your dear daddy?”

 

“So she just  _ divorced him _ ? Without talking to Betty or me about it? What is the matter with her?”

 

_ This _ was the girl that had upset Alice so much when she ran away? Cheryl wondered if Cousin Alice really  _ was _ crazy, and, for that matter, whether Polly was entirely within the realm of sanity herself. She was a Blossom, after all. It was possible she had lost the plot. Cheryl herself was seconds away from losing all of her patience. 

 

“She’s your mother,” Toni said, and Cheryl exhaled loudly. “She doesn’t need to run every decision she makes by you, because she’s your mother, and maybe she didn’t think divorcing her serial killer husband that tried to make her and your sister his last two victims was a decision she needed to discuss with you?”

 

Polly scowled, letting out a loud huff. 

 

“Do you  _ want _ to be stuck living with your mother?” Cheryl warned, her tone deadly. “No? Then I suggest you maintain silence for the rest of the drive home. Otherwise, she will be stuck dealing with you, and your wonderfully charming attitude.”

 

“I don’t understand why she would rejoin the Serpents,” the blonde mumbled, though she looked vaguely chastised. “I thought she was better than that.”   
  


“Given what you’ve spent the past year doing,” Cheryl said, trying to keep her tone even, reminding herself that she didn’t need to traumatize the infants and Toni to get her points across. “You have no right to question anyone’s decisions,” she said. “Honestly? I’m surprised that your moronic father thinks that Betty is the one that shares his darkness, since he has a clear, wonderful, protege, in you, Pollykins. Was it because you committed sins that he had to move on from you?”

 

“What sin did I commit?” 

 

“So many, Polls,” she purred. “Not that I’m one to judge. I just think that your father is missing out on molding you into...the grey scarf, or something.” 

 

Beside her, Toni snickered. 

 

“I told my mom, that if I came back, I was staying with you, not her,” Polly muttered. 

 

“You told me that, Pollykins,” she corrected. “I don’t know what you’re playing at,” she added. “But you need to remember who you’re speaking to, and what I am capable of doing.”

 

“Are you threatening me?” She demanded.

 

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so tacky,” she said. “Threats are for poor people, or the Lodges.” She continued to drive. “I wouldn’t want to subject FP to living with you,” she added. “He’s had a hard enough life lately.” Though she had made the comment as a dig towards Polly, she realized belatedly that it was true. He had gone from being wrongfully accused of  _ murder _ , to having his son nearly  _ murdered  _ himself, and then to find out that his ex-wife hadn’t even bothered to give Jughead the time of day at any point during his incarceration or when he had been in the hospital recovering from the whole nearly-dying thing, well...Cheryl thought it would be cruel to subject him to Polly and two babies. No one could ever say she wasn’t merciful. “Betty’s boyfriend almost died,” she added. “Not that you care. You didn’t even call when it was  _ all over _ the news that your dad was arrested. And you wonder why your mother finds comfort in FP Jones? The man has nothing better to do than be there for your mother.”

 

“I got in touch with you--”

 

“To tell them that you didn’t want to see them,” she pointed out. “Which, b-t-dubs, Forsythe numero dos and Momma Serps  _ totally _ know about. I told them, you see.” 

 

Toni snickered into the sleeve of her jacket. “Forsythe numero dos? That’s a good one, Cherry.” 

 

“I try,” she said. “I’m not going to be a conduit for your petty disagreements with your mother,” she told Polly. “Stay with me, don’t stay with me, I don’t care. Don’t expect me to pass on your petty whining when your mother is one of the  _ few _ semi-decent adults I know.”

 

“She didn’t want me to see Jason! She’s the reason he died!”

 

“Wait, I’m confused,” she said. “Is it Momma Serps or Daddy Serps that you’re blaming for Jay Jay’s tragic demise? Because I saw that video, toots, and that was my father on there, with the gun.”

 

“We would have been happy together,” she continued. “My mom has never wanted me to be happy.”

 

“You’re delusional,” Cheryl muttered. “Happiness would not have been a word in your vocabularies.” 

 

“How do you know?” 

 

“You’re making Jason into something he wasn’t, Polly,” she said. “Maybe it’s because he died, maybe it’s because you genuinely believe Jason to be this good person, but you have to know...the Jason that broke up with you? That was closer to the real him than the one who asked you to marry him.”

 

“You’re lying,” she said. “We were going to run away together. He loved me.”

 

“What choice did he have? Can you imagine what would have happened if your parents had gotten to him before Daddy did? Your father’s career as a serial killer would have had an early start. Running away was the only thing to do. And if you think he proposed to you out of love, Polly, you are dreaming.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Polly asked.

 

“Have you ever heard of a sense of obligation?” She inquired. “Like, for example, why your parents got married and had you... _ prematurely _ ? Surely you don’t think your mother married your father because she loved him? A bottle of wine shows more affection to her than he ever did.”

 

“They told me I was a honeymoon baby,” she said. “That they had waited.”

 

“Didn’t your mom have a kid with FP?” Toni asked. “Kind of blows that theory out of the water.”   
  


“What are you talking about?” 

 

“Oh,” Cheryl said. “You didn’t know? Strange.”

 

“Mom wouldn’t do that. Why would she do that?”

 

Cheryl gave Polly a pitying look. “Your mother is a person, too, Pollykins. Everyone in this forsaken town has a tragic, Grecian, backstory. You’d do best to remember that.”


	16. just another tune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I feel that the charms of Northside life were greatly exaggerated,” he heard Fangs say to Sweet Pea, in what he sensed was an attempt at a whisper. “I mean...they seem even more fucked up than us.”

“You okay, Allie?” FP asked her quietly, wrapping his arm around her waist, and leading her over to the couch, sitting down beside her in an attempt to get her to stop pacing around the entirety of the house. He thought that she needed to relax. Desperately. Despite knowing she thought that was a dirty word.

 

“I haven’t seen Polly in months,” Alice whispered, though she stilled as he reached for the blanket that she’d placed on the back of the couch, tucking it over the two of them. “She was really mad the last time we spoke. She doesn’t even want to stay with us.”   
  
Us. FP really liked the sound of that, especially as Alice took his hand in hers, linking their fingers together. He gently squeezed her hand.

 

“Love you, baby,” he murmured. “Look, Al, don’t worry about Polly,” he said. “Either she’ll accept us, or she won’t. And, if she doesn’t? Oh well. At least she’s out of that ridiculous cult.”   
  


“I just think it’s ridiculous that she wouldn’t let any of us pick her up from the airport,” Alice groused. “I mean, she’s that angry at me that she won’t sit in a car with me for an hour? I really wish she would get over herself. She acts like it’s my fault that Hal is a horrible person, who ruined everyone’s lives.” 

 

“Aw, c’mon,” he said. “You didn’t really want to drive all the way out to the airport, did you? Get stuck in all that traffic? Leave Sweet Pea and Fangs in your house unsupervised?” 

 

“Certainly not,” Alice said, and she glanced into the kitchen, where the two teenagers were standing. “They’re not the ones we need to watch, though.” She sighed. “Have you not noticed that that Tom Keller’s son and my fellow turncoat have resumed some sort of...bizarre relationship?” She pursed her lips. “I’m sure that Tom will love that development.”

 

“I thought Keller was dating Moose?” 

 

“Oh, who knows with these children,” she sighed. “Every day it’s a new love triangle. It’s like we’re on a soap opera.” 

 

“Is that the headline of tomorrow’s paper?” He teased. 

 

“Do not tempt me,” she warned. “Honestly, writing about the corruption in the town is getting tiring, I am tempted to turn the paper into Dear Alice.” She leaned over and gave him a kiss. “I guess you’re right, Jonesy,” Alice admitted, running her hands down his side. “I mean, what can I do? I can’t turn back time. Don’t you think if I could I would? Spare everyone in this town Harold’s reign of terror?”

 

“What he did, that wasn’t your fault,” he reminded her. “I know that you think you should have known, Al, but don’t blame yourself.”

 

“What are the two of you doing?” He asked Sweet Pea and Fangs tiredly, dreading the answer. “Is there some Serpent meeting I forgot about?”

 

“Toni keeps sending me SOS texts,” Sweet Pea supplied, though only after he glared at him. “I think Polly is annoying her.”

 

“Sweet Pea!” FP exclaimed. “That is Alice’s daughter! How can you say such things?”

 

“He can say them easily,” Alice declared, her tone amused, and he glanced down at her. “Honestly, I’m not surprised. I don’t know why Hal was so obsessed with Elizabeth following in his footsteps, when Polly is already on her way.”

 

“What?”

 

“Oh, honey, I’m not naive about Polly and her limitations. I know that there is something wrong with her, and, honestly, I’ve always known. Maybe sending her to the Sisters didn’t help, but she was never a beacon of sanity, even before the whole Jason dying thing. For heaven’s sake, she’s named her children Juniper and Dagwood. Does that sound like someone with all her facilities? Not to mention that insane cult that she decided to join because that buffoon who we must sanctify because he’s dead decided to steal my daughter and cart her off to parts unknown.” 

 

“She means Jason Blossom,” FP supplied, noting the confused expressions on the two teenagers. “No one is saying you have to sanctify him, sweetheart.”

 

“Polly thinks so,” she said. “Heaven forbid I have issues with the stupid moron who fed her lies and wanted to involve her in that cult from the start dropping dead, forcing the whole town into mourning over someone who never deserved a minute of it. And that’s without even getting into what that family tried to do to you! Not that I expect her to care, but I do!” 

 

“Could you ask Toni to clarify on her texts, please? She’s not actually in danger, is she?”

 

“She just says that Polly Cooper is out of her mind,” Sweets reported. “And that the twins won’t stop crying and they’re stuck in traffic.”

 

“I should have just gone,” Alice muttered. “Instead of subjecting Cheryl and Antoinette to fixing my mistakes.” She sighed. “Tell her I send my apologies. For the traffic and the monster my husband and I created. Are the two of you hungry? I made fruit tarts earlier.”

 

“You never ask me if I’m hungry,” he whined, pulling a face at her. “What if I wanted one?”

 

“I don’t need to ask you,” she said, her tone teasing. “I know the answer. You are hungry and you want to eat my baking.” She sighed. “I am extending a courtesy to our houseguests.”

 

“Sure,” Fangs offered. “Whatever you want to make us.”

 

“I’ll take requests if you want,” she offered, leaning over and taking a sip from the glass of water FP had abandoned earlier. “From you, too, Jonesy.” She gave him a kiss. “Whatever you want from me.”

 

“You talking about food, or somethin’ else, babe?” He whispered in her ear, tugging her on to his lap. “Because I have  _ many _ ideas.”

 

“Mmm...for you? Whatever you want.” She smirked. “I should probably get the food ready for the boys.”

 

“They can serve themselves,” he protested. “Stay with me.”   
  


“If I let them feed themselves there will be no food left,” she said. “Plus, aren’t you hungry? I’ll be right back.” She kissed him again. It was true. He was hungry.

 

“Babe?” He asked. 

 

“Yes, Jonesy?” 

 

“Hurry back?” He sprawled out on the couch, while he waited for her return. “What the hell are the two of you smirking at?” 

 

“Jonesy?” Sweet Pea repeated, his voice a bad falsetto that was clearly designed to imitate Alice. “What’s with that? She’s got you whipped.”

 

“She’s Alice,” he said, as if it explained everything. To FP, well, it did. Alice was Alice and if she wanted to call him Jonesy and if she had made him a little soft, well, so be it. He loved her. “She can call me whatever she wants.” He sighed. “I’m not whipped.”

 

“No, of course you’re not,” Alice soothed him. “Why on earth would you be?” He watched her set the plates on the coffee table (okay, if he was honest, he was really checking her out), before she sat back down, taking a delicate bite of food. “Eat,” she commanded.    
  


“It’s okay to be nervous,” he said quietly. “I mean, not that you are. But, if you were, it would be okay.”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Alice said, as she tucked her legs underneath herself and settled herself on his lap. “What’s there to be nervous? It’s just Polly. She’ll spend as little time here as possible and I’ll never see her again.”

 

“Sounds like she sucks,” Sweet Pea supplied. “Is it because we’re staying here?”

 

“No.” She shook her head. “She’s just...it’s just a complicated situation.” 

 

“I guess I don’t get it,” he said honestly, and FP cringed as Sweets continued to speak. “If I had a mother that cared about me, I wouldn’t not come home.”

 

“Polly made some decisions that her father and I didn’t approve of,” she said after a moment. “Maybe we were wrong to handle it how we did,” she continued. “The thing with Polly is that she has always been, um, strong willed. Nothing I ever did for her was right and the life I strove to build for my daughters was never good enough for her. She thought that she found a solution to her problems in Jason Blossom.” Alice sighed. “He was obviously using her, but Polly never saw it that way. She got pregnant, we sent her away, I...may have neglected to tell her that Jason died. I was hoping by the time she had the baby that what happened with Jason would have...blown over, and that she would have understood,” she rolled her eyes. “How was I supposed to know that Jason and Polly had concocted some half cocked plan to run away together and live at the farm? And that instead of displaying any common sense whatsoever she would proceed to follow that plan?”

 

“Is this my cue to apologize for not realizing that Jason Blossom was dating your daughter?” He dared to ask.

 

“Don’t be so ridiculous,” Alice said. “Please. The less people that realized that, the better.” 

 

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry, though,” he said. 

 

“Would it have made a difference in the end?” She asked. “I don’t think so.”

 

“I feel Polly’s opinion might differ,” he sighed. “Are you sure you want me here when she comes?”

 

“I don’t care what Polly thinks about you,” Alice told him. “Please, stay. Please.”

 

“Alright, Al,” he whispered, twisting a lock of her honeyed hair as he did. “I’ll stay. Don’t worry about it.”

 

“I feel that the charms of Northside life were greatly exaggerated,” he heard Fangs say to Sweet Pea, in what he sensed was an attempt at a whisper. “I mean...they seem even more fucked up than us.”

 

“You’re telling me,” Sweets said. 

 

“Alright,” he interjected. “Are the two of you planning on staying here when Alice’s daughter shows up? Or do you have plans that don’t involve exploring the underbelly of the Northside?”

 

“We have to stay,” Sweets replied. “I promised Toni.”

 

“Mrs. Klump was released from prison,” Fangs supplied. “Is it safe for me to leave?”

 

“Wait,  _ what _ ?” FP asked. “Not you, Sweet Pea,” he hastily clarified. “What do you mean, Mrs. Klump was released from prison?”

 

“Kevin told me that the Sheriff let her go,” he said, shrugging. “Dunno why you’re surprised.”

 

“That is unacceptable,” Alice said, her tone dark. “I will make sure that this is dealt with, Fangs. And of course you’re welcome to stay,” she assured the twosome. “I don’t really care what Polly thinks of me. I’m not ashamed of my past, and I wouldn’t cast anyone out on the street to appease her.” She leaned over to give him another kiss. “Did everyone like their tart?”

  
  


***

  
  


“Polly coming home is important to my mom,” Betty reminded Jughead, as they sat on the front porch of the Cooper-Jones house. “I mean, I don’t understand why, given how Polly treats her, but…” She sighed. “It’s important to her.” 

 

“Because she’s a good mother,” Jughead said. “Or...she tries, at least,” he amended. “Harder than my mother.” 

 

“Have you heard from your mom?” She asked. “At all?”

 

“No,” he said. “Just what Dad told me, that she’d relinquished custody of JB to him, effective the end of the school year. I haven’t heard from her since she told me that she wouldn’t let me stay with her while Dad was locked up.”

 

“I’m sorry, Juggie,” she said, giving him a gentle hug, being mindful of the fact that he was still healing. “That’s not right, how she treats you.” 

 

“I’m used to it,” he said. “Got mad because I picked Dad over her. Par for the course with Gladys.”

 

Betty was about to say something to comfort him when Cheryl Blossom’s town car pulled up in front of the house, its driver looking even more annoyed to associate with them than normal. She inwardly cringed. “Maybe we should go inside,” she suggested. “Hide?” 

 

“Cousin Betty,” Cheryl’s voice came from the car, her tone unamused. “Why didn’t Cousin Alice warn me about how utterly insufferable Cousin Pollykins is?”

 

“I...don’t know,” she said, wringing her hands together. “Is Polly with you?” 

 

“Unfortunately,” she drawled. “It’s been an adventure.”

 

“Are you coming in?” She asked. “I can just get my mom…? Or Jughead can…?”

 

“Yes, we’re coming in,” she snapped. “Toni and I need to recover. Does your mother have any painkillers? I have a tension headache.”

 

“Probably,” Betty said. “I’ll ask her.” Jughead had already had the sense to escape into the house. “Come along, Cheryl.” 

 

“Oh, I don’t think so,” she said. “Do you really think I trust Polly to not hotwire my car if Toni and I leave her and those babies alone in it? No, I will wait here. You and the hobo can announce our arrival.”

 

“I’ll go with you,” Toni said. “Please let me go with you.”

 

“...okay,” Betty said, letting out a sigh. “Come on, Toni. My mom is inside.”

 

If Betty was seething because of Polly’s behavior, she was trying very hard not to show it, mainly for the sake of Alice, whom she knew genuinely missed Polly, and wanted to see her and her grandchildren. 

 

“Polly’s here,” she said, her tone anticlimactic. “Still out in the car, with Cheryl and the twins. Mom, do you have anything Cheryl can take for a headache?” 

 

“She doesn’t want to come in?” Alice replied. “I guess I can go out and see her…”   
  


“No, Mom,” Betty corrected. “She’s coming in.” Betty vowed that Polly would come in whether she wanted to or not. She wasn’t going to have her mother devastated because Polly desired to act like a spoiled brat instead of a human being. “I promise, she’s coming in.”   
  


“Why would she even want to?” Alice continued. “She’s made her feelings clear.”   
  


“Because, Mom. She’s your daughter. And those are your grandchildren. And she shouldn’t be treating you like this.”

 

“And because Cheryl might filet her if we don’t get a break from being the sole people in her presence,” Toni chimed in. “She might filet her either way.”

 

“Alice, if you’re not comfortable with this --” 

 

“I’m fine, FP,” she said. “I’m just tired of Polly’s behavior. Elizabeth?”

 

“Yes, Mom?” Betty asked, praying that Alice would dismiss her and Jughead (who was making fast work of the remnants of a fruit tart) from the room. “What is it?”

 

“Could you put the kettle on?” Alice asked, her tone distracted. “I need to get Cheryl the painkillers.” 

 

“I can get them for you, Mom,” Betty volunteered, eyeing Alice and FP with a sweet, helpful, gaze. “I would hate to take time away from your reunion with Polly.” 

 

“Are you sure, Elizabeth?”

 

“I’m positive,” she said, keeping her tone bright. “Do the two of you need anything? A sedative, Mom?”

 

“Perhaps,” Alice allowed. “If you think it would help.”

 

“Mom,” Betty said. “It looks like you have opened a bakery here,” she exclaimed. “I think we can all agree that taking your sedatives might help.”   
  


“I can’t help how I cope, Elizabeth,” she said, a scowl on her face. “There are worse things I could do than bake.”

 

“I didn’t mean to imply anything, Mom,” she backtracked hastily. “I just meant that you know that you don’t need to do these things, that it’s okay not to be okay? You don’t have to be perfect all the time.”

 

“Elizabeth,  _ please _ stop. Just...do what you want. You girls always do.”

 

“I can bring her to Thornhill,” Toni offered. “If you don’t feel --”

 

“I’m fine, Antoinette. Let’s just get this over with.” 


	17. not all knowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just don’t know what to do,” she admitted. “I just wanted her to be safe.”

It was obvious to the group of teenagers in Alice’s living room that Alice Smith was decidedly  _ not _ fine, but, fortunately for their collective lives, no one dared to openly contradict her. Not even FP, who was daring to look at her with concern. 

 

“Alice,” he said. 

 

“What?”   
  


“It’s okay,” he told her. “It’s okay to not be okay. About what happened to you. About Polly. About everything.”

 

“No, Jonesy, it’s really not,” she admitted. “What kind of mother am I to feel this way? About my own child? A horrible one. I shouldn’t need a  _ sedative _ to be able to deal with my own child, and isn’t that where we are?” She shook her head. “Where  _ I _ am,” she corrected herself. “I should be glad that Polly came home, I should want to see her, and I...she wouldn’t even come home for  _ me _ would she? Cheryl had to make her. She didn’t even care that Elizabeth and I could have  _ died _ at the hands of her father! I knew that I was a bad parent,” she said. “I know that I screwed up. I just...I hoped that she would want to be my daughter again. And now she’s giving the kids a hard time and I feel like maybe we would have all been better off had she just stayed at the farm. Far away from me.”

 

“Alice, listen to me,” he said, accompanying her as she crossed the room from the couch they’d been entangled on to stare out into the backyard, and she blinked back tears. “You’re not a bad mother. You said yourself that you and Hal went around things with Polly the wrong way, and no one could have anticipated her joining a cult, Alice, because most people would have had the sense to investigate what the hell they were walking into instead of...blindly following the whims of their fiance that got killed.” He sighed. “You think I don’t know what estranged children are like? I’m terrified of what Jellybean thinks of me after what Gladys has probably fed to her.”

 

“Forsythia loves you,” she mumbled, though she leaned into his offered embrace. “I just don’t know what to do,” she admitted. “I just wanted her to be safe.”

 

“I know,” he soothed. “I know you did.”

 

“And now I’m forcing Cheryl and Toni to deal with her because she is refusing to fall in line and put up with living with me,” she continued. “I should demand that she moves in, her feelings be damned. She’s a minor.” She scowled. “But I can’t do that to everyone that’s living here,” she admitted. “That would be cruel.”

 

“It’s going to be alright, Al. I promise. I don’t know how, but it will be,” he said softly. “Come on. I’ll be right here with you, the whole time, okay?”   
  


“Okay,” she nodded. “Yeah, Jonesy. Okay.” 

 

“I love you, Allie,” he whispered, his voice low in her ear, as he kissed the side of her neck. “More than you could ever imagine.”

 

“I love you, too, baby.” Alice replied, though she stiffened somewhat when she heard the front door open. “Maybe I’ll listen to Elizabeth.”   
  


“Probably couldn’t hurt,” he said easily. “No one will judge you.”   
  


“That’s sweet of you to say.” 

 

“Come on,” he encouraged. “Let’s go rescue Cheryl.”

 

Despite herself, Alice snickered at FP’s comment, and she gave him a playful nudge. “Yes, let’s go rescue Cheryl,” she agreed. “She does frighten me more than Margaret does.” 

 

“Can’t say you’re wrong.” Alice relaxed incrementally when he put his hand on her back, and she allowed him to propel her in the direction of the entryway. 

 

“Polly,” she breathed, her voice catching at the sight of the daughter that she hadn’t seen in months. “I’m so glad that you’re here. And in one piece.”

 

“Thank you for acknowledging my contributions to that miracle, Cousin Alice,” Cheryl said dryly. “I trust Cousin Betty has my ibuprofen.” 

 

“I believe so,” she said. “She went upstairs to get it. Polly? Do you want something to eat? Drink?”

 

“Why do you care?” Polly demanded. 

 

“Because I’m your -- you know what?” Alice said. “Maybe I shouldn’t. What the hell has caring for you ever gotten me?” She shook her head. “I only ever wanted what was best for you, Margaret. And you throw every mistake I’ve ever made in my face. Meanwhile, you ignore your sister’s phone calls and text messages while her boyfriend is lying in a damn coma and your father has been gaslighting her and psychologically tormenting her for the better part of a year? What the hell did Elizabeth ever do to you? I don’t care how you treat me, but that is not how you treat the only person in our family who has consistently wanted you and those babies in her life. Some thanks Betty gets for that, huh? Did it not occur to you that I would have never demanded you come home if you had ever given your sister the time of day? But, no, you couldn’t be bothered to contact either of us, and you made poor Cheryl do your dirty work, because that’s definitely a sign of someone that should be allowed to live outside of my roof and do whatever the hell she wants.”

 

“How dare you --”

 

“I’m  _ not _ finished, Margaret Cooper,” she snapped. “You may think that it’s acceptable to flit in and out of our lives, going  _ who knows where  _ because you ‘feel unsafe’ or whatever your next excuse will be, but I am tired of it. You can take the twins and live in Thornhill with your cousin, and Antoinette, and Rose Blossom, but if you dare to set foot outside of Riverdale  _ again _ because you want to chase the delusions of Jason Blossom, I will take you to court and have you declared incompetent to make your own decisions on behalf of yourself and your children. And, you know what? I have a feeling that I would be victorious. That’s leaving aside the fact that you’re a  _ legal minor _ , children or not.” 

 

“You’re just going to let her talk to me like that?” Polly demanded of FP, and Alice rolled her eyes.    
  


“Are you serious?” 

 

“Alice --”

 

“No, FP, you don’t have to answer her,” Alice assured him. “I assumed that the reason you weren’t speaking to Elizabeth and myself was because you didn’t approve of our associations with FP and Jughead, and now you’re going around trying to manipulate my fiance because you don’t like how I’m speaking to you? That’s right, Polly,” she snapped. “FP and I? We’re engaged. And if you have a problem with that I suggest you think very carefully about what you say to us, because I am not joking about my disappointment in your conduct.”

 

“They  _ led Jason to his death _ Mom!” Polly exclaimed. “How can you love someone like that?”

 

“No,” she said flatly. “Jason’s father killed Jason. And, trust me, Polly, I wish that he hadn’t died, because I am  _ certain _ he would have just disappointed you in the end. Instead I have to hear about how he was God’s gift to the world, or whatever lies you’re going to tell your children.”

 

“Oh, don’t bother, Cousin Alice,” Cheryl interjected. “I already tried injecting her with reality on the ride over here.”

 

“What does this tell you?” Alice demanded. “When Jason’s own  _ twin _ says these things?”

 

“You and Dad  _ sent me away-- _ ”

 

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Polly,” Alice said. “Considering what your father has done, don’t you think you got off damn lucky getting sent away to the Sisters? Think of all the sinning  _ you’ve _ done, Margaret, and remember what he wanted to do to you, to those babies. I sent you away because I wanted to protect you, and you have  _ always _ held that against me. I’m not perfect, Polly, I’ve never claimed to be.” Alice was on a roll, and not even the presence of others was enough to stop her. “What would you have even done had you met up with Jason that day? You  _ both _ could have been kidnapped and killed. Do you think for a second that Clifford Blossom wouldn’t have offed the both of you?”

 

“Of course he wouldn’t have,” Polly said. “Or you would have found us.”

 

“Yes, about that, Polly,” Alice said. “What should I do about your desire to start  _ drug dealing _ with your sainted boyfriend? Do we really want to go down this road, or do you think maybe you could embrace the concept of shutting up? I would  _ not  _ have been happy with you had I caught you and Jason  _ dealing drugs _ because neither of you could have the maturity of a toothpick to responsibly deal with this situation.” 

 

“What are you talking about? He was going to marry me!”

 

“That’s very sweet,” she said, her tone making it clear that it was anything but. “What, pray tell, were you two planning on doing with yourselves when your drug money ran out and you were stranded on the farm? Were you planning on having the twins without any prenatal care?” 

 

“You sent me to that  _ horrible _ place, Mom.”

 

“You think I don’t know that!” Alice exclaimed. “I thought that they were a good, Catholic, home for teen mothers! I didn’t know that they didn’t bother adopting out the babies that were born there, I didn’t know that they were the  _ evil incarnate _ that they turned out to be! I thought they would  _ help you _ like they were supposed to help me! I’m not omnipotent, Margaret!”

 

Polly shoved past Alice, leaving the twins in their carseats by the front door, and she slammed her way up the stairs, clearly headed to what had been her bedroom. 

 

“Your things are at Thornhill,” Alice called after her. “The ones that you didn’t sneak into my house and move behind my back to the  _ farm _ that is.”

 

“Cousin Alice?”  Cheryl said, after a moment.

 

“What?” 

 

“Are you talking about the Sisters of Quiet Mercy?”   
  


“Yes, Cheryl, I am,” she said, sighing quietly. “Why do you ask?” 

 

The entire display with Polly had been embarrassing enough for Alice, and the fact that she had accidentally let the fact that  _ she _ had been a resident of the Sisters of Quiet Mercy slip out in front of mixed company was enough for the sense of pride she still had to slip entirely away. She wanted to die of mortification. Cheryl’s question, however, did not provide Alice with a sense of comfort, but, rather, raise her suspicions to new heights. How did  _ Cheryl Blossom _ know about the Sisters of Quiet Mercy, Alice wondered to herself, finally taking the medication and tea that Elizabeth had been patiently waiting to provide to her (who even knew how long her daughter and Jughead had been standing there? Not Alice), taking a soothing sip of the herbal blend, trying to collect herself. 

 

“Cheryl?” Betty asked. 

 

“Did you know about their  _ alternative _ programs?” Cheryl asked. “Or did you think it was just a home for the unwed and pregnant.”

 

“It’s a home for troubled youths,” Alice said. “I assumed that was their polite euphemism for pregnant and unwed, yes. What alternative programs are you talking about?”

 

“Didn’t you wonder why I got myself emancipated?” She asked her, looking more like a scared child than the confident person that Cheryl Blossom typically portrayed herself as. “Mumsy sent me away,” she said. “Because of my deviant behavior, Cousin Alice. She didn’t like that I had...feelings for Toni.” Alice blinked. “So, she sent me away, to a place that she claimed would make me feel better, would...fix me. Nana Rose did tell Toni that I was at the Sisters…”

 

“By sent away, what do you mean?”

 

“You’re smart, Cousin Alice. What could  _ possibly  _ be done to cure me?”   
  


“You don’t need to be cured, Cheryl,” she said. “Are you talking about...conversion therapy?” 

 

“It didn’t work,” she said. “But, yes, Cousin Alice, that is what I’m talking about. Tell me, do you support that?”

 

“I didn’t know,” Alice murmured. “I swear to you, I had no idea.”   
  



	18. their big fake smiles and stupid lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who cares about the weeping widow?” Cheryl snapped. “For someone who only elevated herself from entry in Jason’s hookup playbook because she--the two idiots didn’t know how to use a condom properly, she has a very high opinion of herself. For what it’s worth, I think it’s fine for you to not thrill Polly by being in the poor, unfortunate, souls’ lives. Should their only grandparents be Cousin Alice and my abusive excuse for a mother? Amazingly enough, you could revert to being an alcoholic mess and still come out ahead over Penelope.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Cheryl said, trying to maintain a blase tone. “It’s not like it’s illegal.” Cousin Alice shot her a perplexed look, and she watched her raise a brow, before taking another sip of the tea that Cousin Betty had prepared. It seemed to not be having any sort of calming effect, she noticed. 

 

“Uh, Cheryl,” Jughead’s father said, and she turned to stare at him, watching as he alternated between a pale and ruddy complexion, his hand on Cousin Alice’s back. It was nice that they had each other, she thought. Mr. Jones was at least sane. Ish. “Cheryl, why do you think that it’s legal?”

 

“Why, because one of my rescuers was none other than Kevin Keller,” she informed the two of them. “It’s obviously not illegal, because why else would Kevin elect to utilize his knowledge of the conversion camps as a means to have illicit hookups with the male members of the camp?”

 

“But it is! Illegal! The state made it outlawed by Executive Order!” Alice exclaimed. “Harold got angry when I refused to allow the Register to be in favor of something so utterly barbaric,” she elaborated, as if she was recalling a fond memory, and not making statements that caused Cheryl to have Penelope Blossom related epiphanies. “I told him that I was not going to be party to endorsing something so cruel in the 21st century.” 

 

“You know, it is interesting that you bring up Hal,” FP said, “didn’t he cheat on you with Cheryl’s mother?”

 

“I feel that might be the least of the man’s problems,” she sighed. “Yes, that did occur. Thank you for reminding me, FP. I’m sure Cheryl appreciates your memory being so clear as we discuss her trauma.” 

 

“No, I didn’t bring it up to mock either of you,” he said, and Cheryl watched with interest as he took Cousin Alice into his arms, as if he genuinely cared for her. She suspected that was a novelty for Cousin Alice, like Titi caring about her had been for her. “I brought it up because I wonder if Hal knew about the Sisters having the camp,” he explained. “I believe you when you say that you didn’t know, that you thought that it was just a program for troubled youths, I believe you, Al,” he insisted. “I just feel that Hal knowing that is within the realm of possibilities.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” the older woman said, repeating the words for what felt like the millionth time. “My God, Cheryl, I am so sorry.”

 

“You’re not Cousin Sucks at Serial Killing,” she pointed out, trying to be kind about it. “It’s not your fault that my mother and Uncle Claudius are evil.”

 

“Who?” Alice asked.

 

“Uncle Claudius,” she said. “My father’s long lost twin?”   
  


“I don’t recall your father having a twin,” she said. “Jonesy? Do you?”

 

“I can’t say I do,” he said. “You’re sure about the twin?”   
  


“He showed up at the will reading,” Cousin Betty interjected. “After Cheryl’s mother kicked you and Attorney McCoy out. He and Mrs. Blossom have some sort of...weird relationship. It’s creepy.” 

 

“I fainted when I saw him,” she chimed in. “I thought he was my father.”

 

“Your mother and ...Claudius,” Cousin Alice said. “Where are they now?” 

 

“They’re living in a barn, with the pigs,” she said, a serene gaze coming over her face. “Which is more than they deserved. I wouldn’t have minded their blood being mopped up.”

 

“Don’t even dream about it, Sweet Pea,” Cousin Jonesy warned, and Cheryl turned to look at her fellow Serpent, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I won’t have you murdering people without provocation. Actual provocation, not just comments from people that have been wronged by others.”

 

“No one is murdering anyone,” Cousin Alice said, her tone flat. “I am so tired of people dying in this town.”

 

“Alright, Al, no one is going to,” he promised. “Tensions are just a little high and people say things that they don’t mean, isn’t it like a writing thing? Hypocrisy?”

 

“I think you mean hyperbole. Hypocrisy is when…oh, look, Jonesy, look. Juniper and Dagwood are awake.”

 

Cheryl masked her jealousy at FP Jones being called to look at  _ her  _ niece and nephew (they were Cousin Alice’s grandchildren, she reminded herself, who on earth did the older woman have to share that with besides Cousin Semi Sober?) but she was unable to resist rolling her eyes at those hideous names that Polly had given the children. How on earth had someone who was named Margaret come up with such insanity? 

 

An idea came to Cheryl, and she grinned evilly. Cousin Jonesy (who was looking at Alice like she hung the moon as she picked up the mercifully not-screaming grandchildren)  _ wanted _ to be a part of Cousin Alice’s family, did he not? He seemed to make that perfectly clear. Why not throw the man a bone and insist that he be allowed to give the terrible twosome nicknames of their own? She grabbed Titi’s hand and strode over to them. 

 

“Are they really named Juniper and Dagwood?” Cousin I Named Both My Son and My Daughter After Myself asked, in what Cheryl was sure was meant to be a whisper, but was perfectly loud for her to hear. She wrinkled her nose. 

 

“Jonesy,” Alice said. “Do you really think that I would call them that if they weren’t really named that? What kind of person do you take me for?”

 

“Cousin Jonesy,” Cheryl interjected. “Surely you could come up with something better for them to be called? For the sake of my darling brother’s memory, and everyone’s desire to not have to say the names Juniper and Dagwood out loud in perpetuity?”

 

“What will Polly --”

 

“Oh, who cares what Polly says?” She rolled her eyes. “She certainly has no leg to stand on here. Think of poor Cousin Alice. Do you think she likes saying such ridiculous names every time she has to address her grandchildren?” Cousin Alice, who was staring at FP with an almost comical look of adoration, opened her mouth.

 

“Address  _ our _ grandchildren,” she said, and Cheryl desperately wished that Cousin Pollykins had heard the woman herself, not that anyone had seen the teenager since she’d stormed up the stairs. “I really do not,” she continued. “Appreciate having to say such ridiculous names.”

 

“Our grandchildren?” He echoed. 

 

“Well, yes,” she said. “What did you think, that I wasn’t going to have you in their lives as their grandfather, if that was what you wanted?” 

 

“Of course it’s what I want,” he said. “I don’t know how thrilled --”   
  


“Who cares about the weeping widow?” Cheryl snapped. “For someone who only elevated herself from entry in Jason’s  _ hookup playbook _ because she--the two idiots didn’t know how to use a condom properly, she has a very high opinion of herself. For what it’s worth, I think it’s fine for you to not thrill Polly by being in the poor, unfortunate, souls’ lives. Should their only grandparents be Cousin Alice and my  _ abusive excuse for a mother _ ? Amazingly enough, you could revert to being an alcoholic mess and  _ still _ come out ahead over Penelope.” 

 

She did  _ not _ want to know why the twosome looked downright  _ wistful _ at her comment about two idiots not knowing how to use a condom, though she wondered if  _ all  _ of the Serpents needed a crash course in sex ed, before Cousin Alice showed up at Cousin Can’t Kill a Successful Soul’s murder trial with a bun in the oven. Actually? Cheryl thought he would deserve it. She still didn’t want to think about such things. 

 

“Wait,” Alice said. “Cheryl, FP nicknaming the twins is all well and good, but you can’t use this as a distraction from actual situations that require my attention, like the knowledge that there are  _ illegal conversion camps  _ being run in the outskirts of town, and that the  _ former Sheriff’s son _ knows about them, and the current Sheriff so corrupt he would probably  _ approve  _ of them. You swear that Kevin knew?”

 

“Yes,” Toni said. “He told Veronica Lodge and myself about them.”

 

“And he didn’t tell his father...why?” 

 

“I have no idea,” she said. “He was hooking up with guys in Fox Forest from the camps.” 

 

Cousin Alice appeared as if she was sucking on a lemon. “That is so unsanitary,” she muttered. “No one in this house is allowed to  _ fornicate _ with others in Fox Forest.” She scowled. “So these young men were probably going up to ‘Hi I’m Kevin Keller’ in an attempt to get legal help and my  _ God above _ what is wrong with everyone in this forsaken town? Are they all incapable of having the common sense that a gnat would have?” She shook her head. “I want to apologize, Cheryl. I should have done better. I let my hatred of your family blind me to some  _ serious _ issues that were affecting you, and I shouldn’t have. Maybe if I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been sent there.” 

 

“It’s okay, Cousin Alice,” she sighed. “I don’t blame you. You shouldn’t blame yourself either.”

 

“Yeah, well, that’s easier said than done,” she sighed. “Why don’t you and Antoinette bring the twins out to the living room and introduce them to your friends?” She sighed. “I suppose that I need to contact Tom Keller.” The doorbell chimed in the distance. “After I get that, I suppose.” 

 

“I can--”

 

“No, it’s fine,” she said. “I don’t mind, Jonesy. I’m sure that I can frighten whomever it is away.”

  
  


***

  
  


“I still don’t understand why we have to come over here,” Kevin heard Joaquin whine, as they stood in front of Betty’s house, waiting for her to answer the doorbell. “Is Betty incapable of walking next door? Where the turncoat won’t dwell?”

 

“That’s Betty’s mother,” he reminded him. “She’s not  _ evil _ because she left the Serpents and returned. Might I remind you that you did the same thing?”

 

“Still,” he scowled. “I don’t want to go over to the Barbie Dream House and have FP’s girlfriend serve us tea and crumpets.”

 

The door to the Cooper house swung open to reveal Alice...whatever her new last name was, who bore an expression of generic benevolence, which quickly turned to hardened anger, when she got a glimpse of Joaquin and himself in the light of the porch. Betty had insisted that they were both welcomed, but he was doubting the veracity of her statement. 

 

“Betty invited us,” he said, plastering on a bright smile. “Is it alright if Joaquin is here? I promise, he’ll be on his best behavior.”

 

“Joaquin is not the person I am angry with at this moment in time,” she said, her tone a level of iciness that Kevin was in awe over. “I believe that he was finding himself while this occured? In San Junipero? No, Kevin, you are the person I am angry with.” She turned to Joaquin, a sweet smile on her face. “Do come in, Joaquin. You may socially engage with our fellow snakes in the living room, while Forsythe and I have a little conversation with Kevin here, in my office. Try not to speak directly to Polly, if she comes down. She’s in a foul mood, I would hate for her to traumatize you.”

 

“Why are you angry at me?” Kevin said, bewildered.

 

“You damn well know why,” she snapped. “Tell me, Kevin, does Joaquin here know about your little dalliances in our local forest?” 

 

“Kevin likes jogging,” Joaquin said. “What is that your concern?”

 

“Oh, you don’t know what people do in those woods?” She asked. Kevin felt vaguely nauseated. “That’s interesting to me, because Kevin here is  _ intimately _ familiar with things of that nature.”

 

“Did  _ Betty _ tell you?”

 

“Tell me what?” 

 

“That I hook up with random guys in the forest!” 

 

“Elizabeth had nothing to do with this,” Alice said. “You want to have this conversation here? Fine. I know about your knowledge of the Sisters of Quiet Mercy and their conversion programs, Kevin. I know all about it.” 

 

“You wanted to talk in your office?” He said, meekly. “I think that would be fine.”   
  


“I thought you’d see things my way,” she snapped. Kevin groaned. “I heard that.” 

 

“There’s something you should know about Betty’s mother,” he whispered to Joaquin. “Everyone thinks she’s crazy. So, maybe, don’t listen to her.” 

 

“Maybe you shouldn’t disrespect Alice like that, boy,” a male voice, that Kevin belatedly recognized as Jughead’s gang leader of a father, said, seemingly out of the blue, and he jumped about a mile. “Hey, Joaquin,” he added. “Want to meet my grandkids?”

 

“Jughead knock his girl up?” Joaquin asked. Kevin’s brows rose to alarming heights. He sensed he was already in for it, judging by Alice’s general demeanor, and he didn’t want to add in Joaquin assuming that Jughead had gotten Betty pregnant to the list. The babies that Jughead’s father was holding in his arms looked familiar, though. 

 

“Nah,” he responded. “He’s smarter than that. They’re Alice’s older daughter’s.”   
  


“You’re watching Juniper and Dagwood?” Kevin interjected. “Why are you watching them?”   
  


“Alice asked me to hold them, not that that’s any of your concern,” he snapped. “This may come as surprise to you, but I do have experience with children, Keller. I wasn’t always the screw up that you and your oh so wonderful father view me as.”

 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “You’re right. I was out of line. I feel like I was hoodwinked into coming here for an ambush--”

 

“Elizabeth is responsible for her own decisions,” Alice interrupted his rambling, while Joaquin had managed to make himself scarce in the moment she’d arrived back on the scene. “And, I must say, this was one decision that I endorse.” She turned to Jughead’s father, and the twins in his arms. “Grandma and Grandpa are going to leave you two with Auntie Cheryl and Auntie Betty, alright? It will be much more enjoyable than hearing Grandma yell.” 

 

“Or, no one could yell?” Kevin suggested. 

 

“You are lucky that I am not dragging you by the ear to your house to have this conversation with your father, and his paramour, and perhaps your mother, on a satellite from Bahrain, young man. Your behavior was absolutely despicable, and, I will be informing them.”

 

“I don’t see what the big deal was!” 

 

“Yes, that is on my list of things to discuss with you,” Alice said, her tone flat. “It’s annotated.”

 

“You have an  _ annotated  _ list of complaints about me?”

 

“Of all of Elizabeth and Margaret’s friends,” she said smoothly. “It makes it easy for me to focus my disapproval.” Her scowl changed to a soft smile when Mr. Jones returned, which Kevin had a hard time reconciling with who he was speaking to. Alice Cooper never did soft. “Honey, did the twins settle okay?”

 

“I think they’ll be fine, Allie,” he answered. “Don’t think the Serpents are any worse to watch them than a bunch of cultists.” Kevin wondered if he had entered the Upside Down. He had to be dreaming. This was a very strange, very very strange, dream. That was the only explanation for the gentle version of Betty Cooper’s mother that he was watching with his own eyes. “Thank you.”

 

“For what?” 

 

“What you said earlier, when you said they were our grandchildren.” 

 

“They are,” she said. “What’s mine is yours, and I hope what’s yours is mine, no matter if we have a marriage certificate or not” Kevin’s eyes widened, and he wondered if the fact that Alice and Mr. Jones were engaged was public knowledge. If it wasn’t, it was the juiciest gossip he’d heard in days. “Come, my Serpent King, let’s show Kevin what a pair of snakes do when they’re provoked.” The look in her eyes was a deadly one, and she nodded in his direction. “Oh, Kevin, did you not hear? I’m the Queen of the Serpents now.” 

 

“I did not hear that, no.”

 

“More’s the pity,” she sighed. “Come along.” 

 

“Are you threatening me?” Kevin demanded. “You’re not the only one that’s  _ dating _ a member of the Serpents, you know. Joaquin will defend me!”

 

“Right, good old Joaquin,” FP Jones drawled. “Did you not ever wonder who your little matchmaker was?”

 

“We met at the drive in…”

 

“It was less of a coincidence than you think,” he said. “Pretty proud of myself for it.”   
  


“What?”   
  


“We needed a connection, and you worked,” he shrugged. “Thought that was self explanatory.”

 

“FP!” Alice exclaimed. “This is not helping the situation!”   
  


“I don’t see why there’s a situation at all,” Kevin admitted. “What’s the big deal? Cheryl is fine.”   
  


They had reached Alice’s home office, and the blonde shepherded them in, the look of displeasure on her face still solely directed at Kevin. He found himself seated in a chair, while Mr. Jones and Mrs. Good-as-Jones faced him, the former sitting on the latter’s desk. He felt a sense of dread as he took in their respective looks, sensing he had been led like a lamb to slaughter. “Can I call my father?” He asked. 

 

“I don’t think so,” FP Jones replied. “See, your father has never given my son that courtesy  _ ever _ , whenever he judges one of his son’s supposed friends as the devil incarnate because he doesn’t fit in the damn norms.” He scowled. “And, why do you need your father here? You’ve told myself and Alice many times that you think everything you’ve done is okay.”    
  


“A statement, which, by the way, neither of us agree with,” Alice said, the furrow never leaving her brow. Kevin gulped. “I am just trying to understand your thought process here, young man, and I am coming up blank.”   
  


“What is the  _ big deal _ ? So I hooked up with people that live at the Sisters? It’s not like that’s a crime?”

 

“The big deal? The big deal??? Kevin, shouldn’t you of all the people in this room, realize why not telling, oh, say, your father the member of law enforcement, about  _ gay conversion camps _ in his legal jurisdictions could be considered a big deal? Maybe, because, of the three of us, the gay person here is you.”   
  


“They would have left if they wanted to,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s not my fault that they kept coming to me, it would have been  _ outing _ them to tell my father.”   
  


“No, outing them would have been posting a billboard with all of their names and their sexualities on it, and then inviting their bigoted relations to see it. You cannot claim that you were worried about outing them, when, literally, all you needed to do was say that there was a verifiable source that needed to remain anonymous that had informed you about the  _ conversion camps _ like anyone normal would have.” She shook her head. “I chose to go to the Sisters. I chose to send Margaret there, because it was the only option that would have kept myself, and then her, safe from her father. If I had known that that those things were going on there I would  _ not _ have done so.” 

 

“Al, you don’t need to tell him this,” FP Jones insisted. “It doesn’t matter what you did, I told you.”   
  


“It matters, FP,” she said. “It matters because he knew that those children were being  _ tortured _ and wouldn’t have told a damn person if Penelope Blossom hadn’t sent Cheryl away to them! And, he doesn’t seem to care. It’s like a  _ joke _ to him.”

 

“I just don’t think it’s that big a deal,” he admitted. “It would never happen to me.”   
  
“That doesn’t make it okay!” Alice exploded. “Just because things wouldn’t happen to you doesn’t mean that they are acceptable.”   
  


“Maybe we  _ should _ call his dad?”

 

“Yes, please call my father,” he insisted. “Please, call my dad.”


	19. when the roof caved in and the truth came out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Twitter, Keller,” she snapped. “He was on twitter. Bestowing this disaster upon his thousands of followers. Congratulations, Kevin. You have knocked Archibald off his pedestal of ‘biggest idiot Elizabeth associates with’. What a feat. Delete these, and delete them now.”

“Sierra and I came as soon as we got your messages, Alice,” Tom Keller said to her, and she crossed her arms, surveying the twosome as she did. “We were at a double feature at the Bijou, our phones were shut off. Can you stop giving me that look?”

 

“I’ve been dealing with Kevin for a substantial period of time, Tom,” Alice said sourly. “My face is frozen in this expression of disapproval. I’m probably going to need to get anti-wrinkle injections to rid myself of this furrow in my brow.” She shook her head. “Follow me.” She turned back into the house, coming face to face with Polly. Great. Another reason for her nagging headache. “Polly, you remember Tom and Sierra? Juniper and Dagwood are in the living room,” she informed her. 

 

“I’m sorry about earlier, Mom,” Polly muttered. “I shouldn’t have--”

 

“No,” Alice agreed. “You shouldn’t have. Move along, please? FP and I need to discuss the problem child with his father.” 

 

She led Tom and Sierra into her home office, where Kevin sat scowling in a chair, while FP was making fast work of the cinnamon buns she’d made that morning. She couldn’t help but smile. At her fiance, of course, not at Kevin. 

 

“What happened, Kevin?” Sierra asked, her tone gentle. “Did you and Betty have a fight?”

 

“Tell them what you told us, Kevin,” Alice demanded, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. “And, FP, I swear to you if there is a  _ crumb _ of those on anything that looks work related, you will rue the day.”   
  


“I don’t leave crumbs when it’s your food,” he said, while Kevin simply glowered. “Sup, guys? Want a cinnamon bun?”

 

“No, they  _ do not _ want a cinnamon bun,” she informed him. “Kevin? Your father and Sierra are waiting?”   
  


Elizabeth’s friends and their general idiocy were getting old, Alice had decided, as she joined FP and the cinnamon buns, and took a delicate bite of one. It was one thing for Archibald to be so utterly idiotic in new ways that surprised Alice whenever they had the misfortune to speak (though even he had had the sense to alert Alice to a problem when it came to his attention, instead of exploiting a situation that would have benefited him for his own gain), but Kevin? She had thought that he had more sense. 

 

“I still don’t see what the big deal is!” Kevin exclaimed. “Dad! Tell them they’re overreacting!”

 

“I would love to do that, son, but I don’t have the faintest idea what the matter is.”

 

“She sent her daughter there too!” 

 

“Leave my decisions out of this, Kevin,” Alice growled, her tone frosty. “What I did for myself, and for Polly, has nothing at all to do with what you have been complicit in. And if you think for a second that it does, you need to reassess your priorities, before  _ I _ reassess them on your behalf.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “But, fine, since you seem content on dragging this conversation out like we are characters on a soap opera, allow me to inform Tom and Sierra what you do in your free time.” 

 

“Wasn’t blabbing my personal business to Joaquin enough?” 

 

“Alice! Why are you sharing rumors with Kevin’s boyfriend? That is completely beyond the pale, even for you.”

 

“Don’t you dare talk to my girl like that,” FP interjected. “What the hell are you taking Kevin’s side, when he’s trying to evade the fact that he knew that that convent was running a conversion camp on the side, and he purposely took advantage of people that were coming to him because they knew he was a fuckin’ Keller, thinking that he might tell his old man what the hell was happening to them. But what did Kevin do?” 

 

“Tell your father, Kevin,” Alice seethed. “Tell him right now or I will. In fact, I will take everyone out to my living room, where everyone can hear what you did, from you. And if you don’t think that I will? You are really that naive.” 

 

“She’s being all puritanical  _ Catholic _ on me because I hooked up with them and didn’t tell you.”

 

“Oh, bullshit,” Alice snapped. “You think that this is because I’m some high and mighty holy roller? Heaven forbid I have some standards of decency that make me think that when one of your friends is found to be in a situation like this, you get over your desire to take advantage of those poor children, and say, hey, Dad, can you do something about my classmate being sent to a conversion camp by her whackjob trollop of a mother?” 

 

“What friend?” Tom Keller asked, and Alice glared. 

 

“I don’t know if she wants her business known to the entire world, so I won’t disclose that to you. You have no authority to force my hand.”

 

“It was Cheryl Blossom, okay?! All of you need to just chill!” 

 

“Kevin!” Alice thundered. “That was absolutely unacceptable! I literally just said that I wasn’t disclosing who your moronic behavior directly affected! You are not deaf! You are being deliberately disobedient!”

 

“If I’m going to get in trouble, so is she,” he said.

 

“Son, Cheryl is not going to get in trouble,” the former Sheriff said, not that it lessened the pounding in Alice’s temple. “And Alice is right. You don’t name names in these situations unless you have their permission.”

 

“Why the hell not? She’s diming me out!”

 

“Shut up, Kevin! There is a difference between what Alice is doing to you and what you’re doing to that Blossom girl, and you know it!”

 

“That’s where we disagree,” he said, and Alice saw him fiddling with his phone. Her eyes narrowed. “If she’s willing to tell everyone about it, and get me in trouble, why shouldn’t I--”

 

“The phone, Kevin,” she snapped. “Give that phone to me, right now.” 

 

“Or what? What are you going to do? Add it to your list of grievances?” 

 

“You better not be posting Cheryl’s personal information  _ on the internet _ and if you are, I swear--” 

 

“Give her the phone, Kevin,” Sierra said. “I can’t believe that you would do something like this.”

 

“I should speak to Cher--”

 

“Absolutely not,” she told him, not caring a bit that he was the former Sheriff. “That child has suffered enough, and I am not letting you give her some invasive interrogation when you’re not even the  _ Sheriff  _ anymore. I won’t put Cheryl through telling her story for nothing.” She crossed her arms. “I told you and Sierra to come here to bring Kevin home, and so you would know what he has done, not so you could torment a  _ seventeen year old _ whose junior year started with her brother dying at the hands of her own father and was topped off with being sent off to a gay conversion camp.” Alice scowled. 

 

“I was just --”

 

“Just what, Tom? What could you possibly say or do to make any of this better?” She stared down at the phone that Kevin had handed to her in disdain. “Wonderful. Your child decided to live tweet this entire debacle.” 

 

“What do birds have to do with --”

 

“Twitter, Keller,” she snapped. “He was on twitter. Bestowing this disaster upon his thousands of followers. Congratulations, Kevin. You have knocked Archibald off his pedestal of ‘biggest idiot Elizabeth associates with’. What a feat. Delete these, and delete them now.” 

 

“Why should I? Cheryl tweets everything.” 

 

“Kevin! This is not appropriate! Your mother and I did not raise you this way!” 

 

“I need to go,” Alice muttered. “Check on the children.” These were the times that tried men’s souls, and they were also the times that Alice regretted bestowing her alcoholic beverages upon Fred Andrews. 

 

Still, she vowed to persevere. Leaving Kevin Keller and his two guardians in FP’s capable hands, she strode out of her office, and slammed the door behind her. She slipped out of the heels that she had put on to interrogate Kevin, not particularly feeling the urge to wear them into the room that the teenagers had gathered, and potentially slip on a spill and break something. Breaking a bone? Something that would annoy her very much. 

 

It was obvious to Alice that Cheryl had seen what Kevin had done. 

 

The redheaded girl was openly weeping on her loveseat, Antoinette and Elizabeth on either side of her, and the other occupants of the room were trying to avoid staring at the threesome. Alice scowled at the others. Cheryl was a human being, not a zoo animal about to give birth.

 

“I know,” she announced to the room at large, before she did something that appalled her learned Northside breeding, and dragged the coffee table over to sit on it so she could speak to Cheryl. “Cheryl, sweetheart…” 

 

“Everyone knows about what  _ happened  _ to me,” she blubbered. “Why did he do that?”

 

“I don’t have that answer for you,” she said. “Trust me, I wish I did.” 

 

“I thought that he was my  _ friend _ not some sort of…” 

 

“Shh, Cheryl, I know,” Alice clucked. “I am so, so sorry. I don’t understand why he did that either. I told him that he needed to delete them.” 

 

“They’ve already gone viral, Mom,” Betty explained. “Deleting them won’t take that back.” 

 

“I don’t--” Cheryl practically fell into her arms, still sobbing, and Alice cautiously gave her a hug, not wanting to do anything to upset the girl more than she was already. Weren’t her girls the closest thing to a relative that Cheryl had, if one didn’t count Nana Rose, and the infant twins? The girl called her and FP her cousins, for heaven’s sake. She was clearly in need of some comfort. “Cousin Al…”

 

“Shh, darling, it’s okay. You don’t need to talk. It’s alright. FP is getting rid of the Kellers and Sierra McCoy, and when you calm down you can go take a shower, maybe? I’m sure that Elizabeth will lend you some of her clothes.” 

 

“We were thinking,” Betty said. “Polly and I. Can everyone spend the night? Like a sleepover? Maybe it would help make Cheryl feel better?”   
  


“Oh, why the hell not?” Alice said. “Is that what you want?”

 

Cheryl sniffled. “Veronica too,” she requested. “She saved me with Toni.” 

 

“Elizabeth,” she commanded. “Will you get in touch with Veronica? Come on, sweetheart. Antoinette and I are going to get you upstairs so you can refresh yourself.”

 

“Mom,” Betty said. “May I have a word with you? It’s important.” 

 

“Will you be okay if I speak with your cousin for a moment?” She asked. Cheryl nodded. “I’ll be right back.” 

 

Alice followed Betty outside to their back deck, and she peered at her in confusion. “Elizabeth, what is it?”

 

“You can’t leave Cheryl alone up there,” she said. “I didn’t tell you and I don’t think it was ever properly dealt with, because it happened so soon before Fred got shot, but Cheryl tried to kill herself after her father died.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“Don’t tell anyone,” she begged. “She threw herself in the river. Archie had to punch through the ice to get her out. She wanted to be with Jason.”    
  


“Oh my God, Elizabeth, this isn’t something you can keep a secret.”

 

“I don’t want you printing it in the Register, Mom,” she said. “I mean, I don’t really think you would. Not anymore. But do you blame me?” 

 

“I won’t print it in the Register,” she promised. “I think I will have to tell FP.” 


	20. not like you to say sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Darth Alice?” Alice scoffed. “I am not the leader of the Empire, young lady. I am capable of controlling myself.”

“You don’t have to do this,” FP said softly, and he took Alice in his arms, as they stood on the front porch, watching the Keller-McCoys drive away. “I mean, you don’t have to talk to Cheryl about what happened to her, if it makes you feel uncomfortable.”

 

“That girl has been failed by so many people,” she replied, as she took a drag of her cigarette. “We are the only family she has left, FP. Us and that grandmother of hers. Someone needs to try to be there for her, to love her, to care for her, to fight for her. She needs to know that we don’t consider what happened to her to be acceptable.”

 

“I understand that, Al,” he insisted. “I’m just saying...you don’t need to tell her about what happened to you, what happened to Charles, not if you don’t want to.”

 

“I know I don’t,” she murmured. “I just...what a mess.”

 

“I can’t believe the Keller kid,” he muttered. “What makes him think that what he did is okay?”   
  


“He’s a self absorbed imbecile,” Alice sighed. “Which is par for the course for the company that Elizabeth keeps, but this display of self-centeredness is beyond me.” 

 

“Do you want me to be there? When you talk to Cheryl?” 

 

“If you want to be,” she whispered. “It would be nice. To not be alone.” She glanced at him. “Yes, please.” 

 

“You got it, babe,” he said, and he rested his hand on her lower back. “Whatever you need from me, I’m glad to provide.” 

 

“I know,” she said. “And I appreciate it.” Alice leaned in to him, and he pressed a kiss to her hair, as he wrapped an arm around her waist. “I just don’t want to be thought of as broken,” she murmured. 

 

“Hey, who cares if you’re broken?” FP asked. “Everyone in this town is a little fucked up, wouldn’t you say? Being broken makes you normal.”

 

“I don’t want to be  _ normal _ like everyone else,” she retorted. “God, Jonesy, what if you’re right? What if this town is cursed?” 

 

“Fuck this town,” he muttered. “And, fuck what people think about you, Alice. You’re not what happened to you, you’re not your dumbass of an ex, you’re more than just what makes you broken. If anyone gives you shit, they’ll have to answer to me, okay? I swear to you, Al.” She sniffled softly, and he thought that he felt his heart break at the sound. “Hey, don’t cry. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

 

“You didn’t upset me,” she assured him. “No one has ever said such nice things to me before, not in a  _ long _ time. Not since...we were together in high school. I’m crying because I think you’re  _ so sweet _ not because I’m upset.” 

 

“I love you, Allie. I’ll defend you to my last breath, if that’s what it takes.”

 

“I love you, too.” She pressed her lips to his, and flicked the cigarette butt into one of her fancy ashtrays. “I suppose that my pity party has gone on long enough, and that, in turn, Cheryl has had enough time to attempt to compose herself.” 

 

“I can talk to her on my own?” He offered. Cheryl Blossom intimidated the hell out of him, but if it meant that Alice wouldn’t be so upset by dredging up memories that she had tried to keep buried, he was willing to put his justified fears of the girl aside. “I mean, I will, Al, if that will make you feel better.”

 

“I wouldn’t subject the two of you to that,” she said, though she smiled in his direction. “You’re very sweet to offer, though, Jonesy.” She kissed him again. “I think it will be okay.”

  
  


***

  
  


“I need to tell you something,” Betty said quietly, watching as Toni and Cheryl cuddled together on her mother’s bed (Betty hadn’t had the heart to correct Cheryl when she had assumed that she was allowed to use the master suite, it really did not seem like a good battle to fight, given the circumstances), her cousin clad in Betty’s fluffiest bathrobe and a set of pajamas, which Toni was also borrowing. “I told my mother about what happened at the river.”

 

Toni arched a brow. “Your mother didn’t know about Jason being dumped there?” 

 

“No, not about Jason,” Betty corrected. “About what happened with Cheryl, at the river.” 

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

It was obvious to Betty that Toni had no clue what on earth she was referring to, and she cringed inwardly, and pretended to be intently focused on a photograph her mother had framed on the bedside table. Gone were the photographs featuring posed scenes of picture perfectness (always faked), and they had been replaced by actual candid snapshots (still appropriately framed, of course). 

 

“It was no big deal,” she heard Cheryl say, as she examined a photograph of her mother and FP, curled up on the couch together. “I just...had a little accident. I didn’t think that it was worthy of mentioning, especially after what Mrs. Lodge did when Veronica brought me home.” 

 

“What did Mrs. Lodge do?” Betty heard herself asking, and she dreaded the answer. Hermione Lodge had gone from being Veronica’s single mother who was struggling to get back on her feet to (at best) a Mafia wife. She suspected that she was more complicit in the family business than she’d ever let on. “Cheryl?”

 

“She wouldn’t let me stay there,” Cheryl whispered. “She made Veronica go to the Jubilee, and she made me go home. I had to walk back to Thornhill soaking wet, from the Pembrooke. I--”

 

Betty had heard enough. “You don’t have to explain anymore, Cheryl. That was unbelievably wrong of Mrs. Lodge. What if you had frozen to death? You could have gotten hypothermia!” 

 

“Sometimes, I wish I had,” she murmured. “I miss Jay Jay  _ so much _ and everyone wishes that I had been the one that died instead of him. Instead I have to live knowing that my mother would have sold her soul for me to take his place. Cousin Betty?”

 

“Yes, Cheryl?” 

 

“Will you tell Titi what happened to me? I don’t think that I can.”

 

“Cheryl drowned herself in Sweetwater River,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “The ice broke through where she was standing, and she was swept away by the current. Archie had to punch through the ice to save her.” She gave the twosome a guilty look. “We were there because Cheryl had texted Ronnie her goodbyes.” 

 

She was  _ infuriated _ with Hermione Lodge. How dare she just cast Cheryl aside after she had attempted suicide? Betty’s own mother wasn’t perfect (far from it), but Betty was certain that no matter how much Alice Smith despised a person, she would put aside her feelings if they genuinely needed her help.    
  


“Cheryl, I’m--” 

 

“Don’t apologize for her,” her cousin said. “I should have just drowned.”

 

“Oh, Cheryl, for Heaven’s sake,” she heard her mother say, and Betty carefully placed the photograph back on her nightstand. “What are you talking about that for? No one thinks that you should have drowned.”

 

“Mom,” Betty said, her tone careful. “I am going to tell you something else, and you have to promise not to get all...Darth Alice on everyone in this room when I do, because I don’t think that it will make you very happy.” 

 

“Darth Alice?” Alice scoffed. “I am not the leader of the Empire, young lady. I am capable of controlling myself.” 

 

“Mom.”

 

“Okay, fine,” she sighed. “What is it that you need to tell me?”

 

“Cheryl just told us that Veronica’s mom made her walk home from the Pembrooke alone, still soaking wet from the river, the night of the Jubilee.” Her tone was gentle, and she stood up from the bed, and crossed the room to where her mother was standing with FP. “Cheryl needed  _ help _ and she was treated like garbage.”

 

“Is that true?” 

 

“Toni says that I’m sensational, but everyone else just wishes I had died,” Cheryl supplied. 

 

“That’s not true, Cheryl,” Alice said, and she pushed past Betty to approach the girls in the bed. “I mean, Antoinette is right, you are sensational. You’re wrong about people wishing that you had died. I know that it’s difficult to understand.”

 

“I’m deviant. I was always the one that no one wanted. It’s not a secret. Why else would Mumsy have sent me away?”

 

“There is something wrong with her,” her mother said. “Your mother’s issues are not your problem, Cheryl, or your fault. You are not the deviant one. I am so sorry that I even told Harold about the Sisters, I  _ never _ would have had I known that they had that  _ program _ there, and I hate that he and your mother  _ conspired _ to send you there because of what? Liking girls? That isn’t what a home for troubled youths is for.” 

 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Cheryl demanded, her voice small. “I don’t deserve it.”

 

“Because we’re family,” she said quietly. “You’re part of my family. Even though it’s unfortunate I am not the one you’re related to by blood. Harold really  _ does  _ not add needed ambience to the Blossom bloodline.” 

 

“He thinks I’m deviant too,” she whispered. “He came after me with an axe.”

 

“Yeah, well, he tried to strangle me,” her mother supplied. “Seems like if you’re deviant, so am I.” 

 

“You’re not, Cousin Alice,” she protested weakly. 

 

“Well, then,” she said. “Neither are you.” 

 

Cheryl sniffled. “I didn’t mean to be this way,” she said. “Every time I think that I’ve moved on from what happened to me this past year, something else happens to remind everyone of what I have done, and what’s been done to me. Now everyone at that school is going to know where I was. I didn’t care if my friends knew, Cousin Alice. I just didn’t want  _ everyone _ to know. It should have been my choice to tell, my story.”

 

“I agree with you.” 

 

“Isn’t there something you could do?” FP interjected. 

 

“Like what? Turn back time and smash Kevin’s phone to bits before he sent those tweets?” Her mother’s tone was one of politeness, but Betty knew it wasn’t an idle threat. “I don’t think this is something that lends itself nicely to being fixed, FP. His audacity was pretty unbelievable.” 

 

“There has to be something, Alice,” he said. “Can you talk to the Bee?”

 

“Would you like that, Cheryl?” Alice asked. “If I went to the school and spoke to the Principal about this unbelievable breach of your privacy?” She leaned over and planted a kiss on her cheek. “It’s alright if you don’t have an answer now,” she added. “I don’t expect you to.”

 

“I just...can I be left alone?” 

 

Cheryl had buried her face in one of her mother’s silk pillowcases, so the look that the four other occupants of the room exchanged with each other went unnoticed. 

 

“You can stay up here with Antoinette,” Alice said, after a moment. “Perhaps the two of you could nap together. In Elizabeth’s room. Yes. I think that would be a good place for you two to decompress.” 

 

“Okay, Cousin Alice,” she whispered. “I’m sorry for being such a bother.”   
  


“You’re not being a bother,” she soothed. “It’s perfectly alright.”

  
  


***

  
  


Veronica Lodge had to admit that she was nervous about coming to Betty’s house for a sleepover, even though she knew that realistically it was the only way a sleepover of any sort was going to happen, not that she blamed Alice for not wanting Betty to go spend quality time at the Pembrooke anymore. Her parents were fast becoming a liability. 

 

Case in point. With Andre dead, her own mother had insisted on being the one to drive her over to the Cooper-Jones house, despite Veronica’s protests that she could handle herself and walk over on her own. Hermione had currently added insult to injury by insisting that she park the car and say hello to Betty’s mother, as if that was going to go over well with the other woman. (Veronica shuddered to think.) But what could she say? Anything disrespectful would make Hiram even more angry at her than he already was. 

 

So, with gritted teeth, Veronica rang the doorbell. 

 

“...I should invite Fred over,” she heard, and she gave her mother a sharp look. 

 

“You cannot invite Mr. Andrews over to Alice and FP’s house without their permission,” she hissed. “What is wrong with you?”

 

“Oh, don’t be so uptight,” Hermione replied. “They’re neighbors. Who’s to say they wouldn’t have forgotten inviting him?”   
  


Veronica ignored her mother in favor of putting on her friendliest smile as the door opened, and revealed Jughead, with his father not far behind. “I’m here for the sleepover,” she said. “She’s here..” She trailed off. 

 

“I’m not sure if now is the best time to visit, Mrs. Lodge,” Jughead said, his tone diplomatic. “Things are a bit hectic here at the moment. Come in, Veronica.” 

 

“Now, boy, don’t speak for me and Alice,” FP interjected, and Veronica swore she saw a vindictive grin flit over his face. “Alice needs to talk to Hermione, here. I’m sure she’ll be willing to get it over with.”

 

“See?” Hermione told her, oblivious as always to the feelings of others, that were right in front of her. “I told you that FP and Alice wanted to see me.” Veronica shot the two men a pained look. 

 

“Oh, yes, we’re delighted,” FP drawled. “Alice is in the living room.” 

 

Veronica followed the Jones men into the living room, where, indeed, a miracle had occurred. If she wasn’t seeing it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have bought it. There was Polly Cooper and her twins, with Betty and Alice on either side of her. And, even more miraculously, they all seemed to be getting along. Juniper and Dagwood were getting so big. 

 

“What is she doing here?” Alice demanded. Veronica cringed. “Not you, Veronica, your poor excuse for a mother.”   
  


“FP said that you wanted to talk to me,” Hermione replied, her tone bored. “Did you find me a lawyer?”

 

“Don’t be so obtuse,” Alice said, and Veronica watched as she pressed a kiss to one of the twins’ heads and climbed off the couch, crossing the room towards them. “You really don’t have a damn clue, do you?”

 

“What are you talking about?” 

 

“I know what you did, Hermione,” she said, a scowl on her face. “I know what you did to Cheryl after she drowned in Sweetwater River. How you made Veronica abandon her to go to the Jubilee? How you made her walk home despite the cold temperatures and the fact that she had tried to drown herself? What possessed you to do such a thing? She is a child!”

 

“She’s a Blossom!” 

 

“You don’t get to use that as an excuse when you are trying to defend the actions you did,” she snapped. “Cheryl had the year from hell and you didn’t help someone whose  _ brother _ had died because you don’t like Clifford and Penelope Blossom? Part of being an adult is recognizing when you are supposed to look past people’s pedigrees and treat them with human decency.”

 

“Are you saying you would have done differently? After what her brother did to your daughter?”

 

Veronica watched as Alice’s face turned an interesting shade of purple. “Mom--”

 

“No, Veronica,” Alice said. “It’s fine. I am so damn tired of having to be the sole adult here with any sense on a consistent basis. Are you insane, Hermione? Yes I would have behaved in a better manner than you did, not that the bar was set very high. What is wrong with you? Am I the only one here who realizes that these children are children, and therefore has the sense of a thimble and tries to protect them? How could you even ask me that?”   
  


“I didn’t tell Veronica to bring her there!”

 

“That doesn’t matter,” she hissed. “Cheryl needed help, and you couldn’t be bothered to drop your petty bullshit for one day.” 

  
  



	21. let this be a sermon (i meant everything i said)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sound of the palm meeting cheek reverberated through the living room, though it took Hermione more than a minute to realize that Alice had actually smacked her.

“You’re one to talk about petty bullshit,” Hermione said, and she crossed her arms. “All those things that you’ve said in the Register about damn near everyone in this room? How dare you judge me?”   
  


“Are you seriously comparing writing articles designed to sell newspapers, so that I could have a good lifestyle for my girls, to forcing someone who had tried to commit suicide! Actually tried to commit suicide! Would have died if Archibald Andrews hadn’t been there! Forcing that child to recover from that  _ alone _ because you don’t like her family? That is unacceptable, Hermione Lodge. I don’t like you or your husband, and if Veronica was the girl that was in this situation? I would help her. Because that’s what people do.” 

 

“How magnanimous of you, Alice,” she said, and she rolled her eyes. “My daughter would never do something like that. She knows what a sin is.” Was it a low blow? Probably. Definitely. But, Alice’s comments had annoyed Hermione Lodge in a major way.  

 

“What was that?” Alice demanded. “Oh, how juvenile,” she continued. “You think that by alluding to Harold, I will become distracted, and abandon my feelings of disdain for you, and your megalomaniac of a husband.” She scowled. “Or, I suppose you are telling me that you would  _ punish _ Veronica if she felt suicidal, because you care so deeply about your religion when you can use it against people.” 

 

“What do you mean by that?”   
  


“Well, I have a feeling that a good Catholic probably wouldn’t have banded together with her husband to involve my 16 year old, moron of a neighbor become a wonderful new  _ capo _ for the merry Mafia family that you and Hiram run. I don’t even understand  _ how _ you two managed to join the Mafia, considering you’re not Italian, but...that is neither here nor there. My feelings on the subject of your treatment of Cheryl stand. It was grossly inappropriate, and I do not take kindly to you hurting my family members. Speaking of which: pray tell, why did you allow Margaret to leave your house and go live with the Blossoms? I trusted you to keep her and the babies safe. And what do you do? You go against my expressed wishes.”

 

“Oh, please,” she said. “What the hell do you know about keeping babies safe? Did you even tell FP it was his?”

 

“Shut the hell up, Hermione. You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”

 

“Oh, but, I do. You never bothered to tell him how that bun got in your oven during high school, did you? Too upset that he was hanging around the River Vixens?”

 

“I mean it, Hermione.” There was a warning tone to Alice’s voice, and a wiser person would have probably stopped goading her, but, Hermione paid it no mind. “You shut the  _ fuck _ up. Stop talking about Charles, before I  _ make  _ you. See? I remember high school, too. And I remember beating a  _ damn lot _ of people up.”

 

“Mom, maybe you should calm down,” Betty interjected. “I really don’t think this is a good idea--”

 

“Oh, come on, Betty,” Hermione said. “She’s just upset that your brother moved out.”

 

“What did you say to me?” Alice demanded. Hermione watched as she shrugged out of Betty and Jughead’s hold on her, and as she stalked across the room to her. The look in her eyes was one of pure rage. Her fists were clenched. “Shut the fuck up about things that you don’t know a damn thing about. Because I  _ will _ make you.”

 

“I was only pointing out that you never told FP that the baby was his, did you? Just making an observation. I think you were jealous of Polly--”

 

“Are you out of your mind? I was not jealous of Polly. That is the most asinine thing you have ever said.” 

 

“But you  _ didn’t _ tell him,” she concluded. “Oh, Alice, what a tangled web we weave…”   
  


“FP knows about Charles!” Alice exclaimed. “Not that that is  _ any _ of your concern. You lost my friendship years ago, and now you are very close to losing  _ any _ chance of ever getting it back. How dare you cast aspirations about my character? When you wander around this town trying to turn the whole damn thing into your personal prison?”   
  


“What? Don’t tell me you weren’t given warm childhood memories when the trailer park caught on fire? Didn’t you once try to burn it down?” 

 

“I lit a dumpster on fire for an initiation task. I did  _ not _ burn people out of house and home out of spite. But, congratulations, Hermione. I will be adding the trailer park disaster to the list of things the lawyer I have hired for the Southside community needs to deal with. It’s so nice of you to have such a good memory.”   
  


“Why  _ did _ you kick your son out?” Hermione mused. The lawyer comment was just beyond ridiculous. She knew better than to touch it. “Jones didn’t want him around?”

 

“I told you to be quiet,” Alice hissed, her tone deadly. “How dare you say those things about FP?”

 

“It’s easy,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like he doesn’t have past precedence. Fred told me all about how Jughead was living with them because FP prefered the bottle to wanting his children at ho--” 

 

The sound of the palm meeting cheek reverberated through the living room, though it took Hermione more than a minute to realize that Alice had actually  _ smacked _ her. 

 

“Shut the fuck up about my fiance,” Alice said, and she grabbed Hermione by the front of her shirt. “Say whatever the fuck you want about me, all the damn time that you want to, but don’t you dare say anything else about FP.” 

 

“Me? What about Fred?”

 

“Oh, I will deal with Frederick,” she snapped. “Don’t you worry. Right now, though, my issue is you. You and your slimy husband and your inability to keep quiet about painful situations you know nothing about because you think that you can get the upper hand.”

 

“God, Alice, it’s been 25 years. Did you really expect the kid to want you in his life?” When she saw the look on Alice’s face, Hermione immediately regretted the comment. “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I shouldn’t have said that.” 

 

“That  _ kid _ killed my son.” Alice shoved her, hard. “What the hell are you still doing here? Are you  _ asking _ for me to kick your ass? Because, I will.” 

 

“Maybe I should...I should go. Tell Veronica I said goodbye.”

  
  



	22. smokes a pack a day (oh wait that's me, but anyway)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, it looks like Fred and Hermione are...engaging in either vigorous CPR or...actions of a baser, more carnal, instinct, does it not?” If Fred wanted to hide his dalliances with Riverdale’s Victoria Gotti, it would help his case if he was not doing it in a brightly lit room. “And, yet, look who has just wandered into town.” Alice pointed a perfectly manicured hand in the direction of the car. “Mary Andrews.”

“You think that you can just swan in here, spend your time  _ berating _ me, and I’ll just let you walk out that door?” Alice demanded. “I just find it funny how you come around claiming you wanted to be my friend, claiming you wanted to support me, and then you pull stunts like this!” She shook her head. “I knew that it was too good to be true,” she said. “I knew that you hadn’t really changed. You’re just the same person that you became when you picked Hiram over the rest of us. You just think that you can put on a pity me expression and a look of innocence and everyone will buy it?” 

 

“Alice--”   
  


“No, FP,” she corrected. “Don’t you remember? She came over and she sat here where the girls are, and she bullshitted us about how she wanted things to be different, how she had changed, how she wanted better for herself.” Alice swiped bitterly at her eyes. “How stupid was I to buy any of that? She just thought that I was going to come gunning for her precious Hiram and wanted to con me into thinking that she was on my side.” 

 

“You’re not stupid, Alice,” he murmured. “Why don’t you just let Hermione go home? What’s the point of opening up the same old wounds when you know what the result will be?”

 

“Fine,” she muttered. She supposed that FP had a point. It wasn’t like her screaming match (which Alice thought that Hermione had definitely deserved!) had actually netted anything resembling a positive result. In fact, much to her humiliation, it seemed to have only served to bring up things she had never wanted  _ anyone _ to know, let alone the group of teenagers that were in her living room. She did not think she had ever been more mortified. “I think you should leave, like you said. And you can forget about my helping you.”

 

“You’re not going to speak to the FBI?”

 

“Oh, I’ll speak to them,” she said, her tone bitter. “You probably won’t like what I have to say. But, I will take  _ pleasure _ in speaking to them.”

 

“What are you implying?” Hermione demanded. “Alice! What about Veronica?”   
  


“Veronica? I won’t say a damn thing about her. She’d be better off without you and Hiram. Hot Dog and Vegas would be better guardians.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I think you should leave,” she repeated. “Unless you want to figure out what the Serpents do when one of their own is threatened.”   
  


“What do you think, your little gang of untrained hoodlums is actually a threat to me?” Hermione scoffed. “How adorable.”

 

“See, the thing is? Unlike you, I have people that care about me, I have a support system,” she said, her tone quiet. “At the end of the day, I know that I’m not alone, that Elizabeth and Polly, and I, we will never be alone again.” She scowled. “I don’t think that you have that, Hermione,” she sighed. “Who do you have? Hiram? We know that he’ll leave you and Veronica high and dry when things go south for him. I know that FP would never do such a thing,” she informed her. “That means more to me than some pity friendship from you ever would.” 

 

“He wouldn’t leave us!” Hermione objected.

 

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Hiram doesn’t care about you and Veronica in the slightest. If you don’t see that, you’re blinder than I thought.” Alice rolled her eyes. “Goodbye, Hermione. As always, I have to try to undo the damage you continue to cause.” 

 

“I--”

 

“I don’t think that Alice wants you to be here anymore,” FP interjected smoothly, and Alice let him get in between her and Hermione, though she did squeeze his hand tightly as he stood there. “Don’t you know what happens when you tread on a snake, Hermione? I thought we talked about this?”

 

“I--”

 

“I told you that if you don’t step on one, they have no reason to bite you,” he said, his tone fond, and his fingers holding tight to hers. “Well, you see, you’re stepping on one now. I have  _ no _ issues with showing you how we bite.” 

 

“Oh, you and your stupid snake metaphors!” Hermione exclaimed. “Fine. Whatever. Veronica, we’re leaving.”

 

“She doesn’t have to go,” he informed her. “Just. You. Hell, I don’t care if Veronica wants to  _ join _ the damn Serpents, if it’ll shut you the fuck up, Hermione. I’ll tattoo her myself.” 

 

Alice watched as Hermione Lodge stalked out of her house, a slight smirk gracing her face as she watched the other woman trip over the area rug that was in front of the front door. While she wished that she had fallen flat on her face, Alice supposed that she could deal with not dealing with Hermione getting injured on her property. She let out a heavy sigh. 

 

“I think I will head to bed,” she muttered. There was no way that she was facing those teenagers after the embarrassing fight that she’d had in front of them. She had had enough humiliation for one day. 

 

“It’s...7:30, Alice,” he told her. “You don’t think people are going to find that suspicious?”

 

“What else can I do?” She queried. She squeezed his hand tightly. “I can’t go in there and have everyone  _ stare _ at me. I can’t do that to myself. They’re going to think that I’m  _ horrible _ because of what Hermione said in there and now everyone knows what happened to  _ Charles _ and my God, FP, I am  _ such  _ a horrible person, aren’t I? I killed our son, I  _ killed _ our son, I--” The shock of having been pulled into FP’s arms cut Alice off mid-sentence, though she simply changed from ranting to weeping, unable to stop her sobs from racking her body when she felt him pull her close. 

 

“It’s okay,” she heard him whisper. “It’s okay, Allie, it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

 

“How can you say that?” She asked, her tone broken. “You don’t hate me?”   
  


“You didn’t kill Charles,” he said, his tone firm. “Allie, you didn’t kill him. That’s on Chic, not you. You were a scared, confused, teenager, who had  _ nothing _ and thought that she was doing the  _ right thing _ by our child. It’s not your fault that you were taken advantage of by people that were supposed to help you and help the baby, and it’s not your fault that you turned him away. How were you supposed to know who he was? Did he say he was Charles?” She shook her head. “It’s okay, Alice,” he murmured. “You’re allowed to be fallible. Even you can fuck up. It doesn’t mean that you’re a horrible person.” 

 

“You promise, Jonesy?” She sniffled loudly. He ran his hands through her hair. 

 

“Yeah, babe, I promise. You’re one of the best people I know.” 

 

“Okay.” Alice drew in a deep breath. She supposed that believing FP when he said things that sounded pleasant to the ear like that she was the best person he knew was probably slightly more beneficial to her mental health than the continued self-flaggation that she seemed to have favored as of late. “If you say so, I have to believe you, don’t I?” She wrapped her arms around him, and laid her head on his chest, and the sound of his heartbeat provided her with a sense of comfort. “I just wish that I had known who I was. Instead, he died thinking I  _ hated _ him. I didn’t hate him. I loved him so much, and he never knew.” FP squeezed her tighter, and she felt him press a kiss to her head. “That’s what hurts me most of all.”

 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he murmured. “It’s all gonna be okay.” 

 

“I’ll go back out there,” she told him. “Can we just...I need a moment.” 

 

“Sure, babe,” he said. “Gonna go out and have a smoke, maybe? Want to join?” 

 

“Yeah, I’ll join,” she agreed. She squeezed his hand. “I just...I really hate myself sometimes.” 

 

“Yeah, I think that’s something that you have in common with a lot of people, babe. We all hate ourselves.” He sighed. “Come on. We’ll go out, have a smoke, then when we come back in I’ll glare at anyone who dares to look at you the wrong way.” 

 

Despite herself, Alice giggled. “Jonesy, you don’t have to glare at people, you’re not a bulldog.” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re sweet to defend me, though,” she told him. “I’m not used to that, you know?”

 

“You should be used to that,” he sighed, a scowl on his face. “You  _ will _ get used to it. You deserve to be respected, to be defended, to be protected, you deserve all of that. And, I’m sorry you didn’t get it with Hal. I wish you had, because maybe then I wouldn’t hate him as much as I do.” 

 

“Jonesy, he killed people,” she pointed out. “Regardless of him being a horrible husband to me, the killing people means you can still hate him.”

 

“Oh, I’d still hate him,” he promised. “Just hate him a little more for what he did to you.” 

 

Alice felt herself blush, and she nestled herself against her fiance, while he wrapped his arm around her, and she pressed herself to him as they walked out the front door. She sighed, and she shot a pointed glare at the house next door, daring Fred Andrews to darken her doorstep. There would be hell to pay if he did. She could see that Hermione had taken it upon herself to visit him, and she scowled darkly at the sight. She had known that Fred could be naive to the point of idiocy, but his continued fraternizing with Hermione Lodge really took the cake. Not only were they political rivals, she was the wife of a Mafia Don, which should have set off red flags for Fred, but apparently did the exact opposite. 

 

“You know that I didn’t...I didn’t do what she said I did,” FP insisted. “I didn’t pick the bottle over Jughead and Jellybean, Al, I swear, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to be like my old man. I don--”

 

“Hush,” she murmured, as she led him over to the new porch swing she had gotten installed once it became clear that she would need a space outdoors for peaceful child free contemplation. “You are not your father, FP. You had a drinking problem, and you got yourself clean, and I am so proud of you for doing that. So proud.” She took a cigarette from his pack and effortlessly lit it, taking a long drag from it before she continued her train of thought. How in the hell had they gotten here? How had things gone so hideously wrong? Had it really started back in high school? “If Fred thinks that being a good friend is berating you because you needed help during his time of need, that is absolutely unacceptable. I don’t understand how his mind works.” 

 

“Would you have?” 

 

“Berated you?”

 

“Yeah, what if I had gone to you for help?”

 

“I would not have berated you,” she assured him. “If you had actually come to me for help, I would have helped you. I might have said things that you found harsh that accurately voiced my disapproval, but only to your face, never behind your back. But, honestly, why are you really surprised? We all know that at the end, he’s a Northsider. A real one, not one that’s hiding her Southside side in sheep’s clothing.” 

 

“You’ve always been good at letting me know how you feel,” he said, and she let out a squeak as he wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her onto his lap. “God, Al, you know that I love you, right?”

 

“I know.” She took another drag of the cigarette, and nestled her head on his chest. “I love you more, though.” 

 

“Not really sure if that’s possible,” he whispered. “You’re amazing.” 

 

“I don’t really feel amazing lately,” she admitted. “Every day it’s like there’s another thing gone wrong.”

 

“I still think you’re amazing.” He cupped her chin in his hands, and she allowed him to draw her into a kiss. “You’re my girl, Allie. I love you. No matter how fucked up you can be sometimes.” 

 

“How romantic.” She teased. She kissed him again. “You really don’t think that they’ll think I’m horrible?”

 

“Nah, Allie, they’re kids,” he said. “Pretty damn forgiving of our sins, even when we don’t deserve that.”

 

She sighed. “Do you think Jellybean will like me?”

 

“Why wouldn’t she?” He asked. “Sure she will. You’re not unlikeable, Al,” he told her. “I think you’re pretty much the bomb dot com.” 

 

Alice raised a brow, before she dissolved into giggles. “Jonesy,” she started to say. 

 

“What? What’s so funny?”

 

“Honey,” she insisted. “No one says that anymore. It’s passe.”

 

He smirked. “Cheered you up though, didn’t it?” 

 

“You  _ always _ cheer me up,” she whispered. “I guess we can go inside. Betty is probably worried about me.” She let out a sigh. “She’s always worried about me.” 

 

“In her defense,” he said. “She did watch you almost die. That might be part of the cause.”

 

“I know,” she sighed. “I’m sure that didn’t help matters.” She pursed her lips. “Wait,” she said, her eyes locking on a familiar vehicle, driven by a familiar redhead. “Isn’t this interesting?”

 

“Isn’t what interesting?” FP asked. 

 

“Well, it looks like Fred and Hermione are...engaging in either vigorous CPR or...actions of a baser, more carnal, instinct, does it not?” If Fred wanted to hide his dalliances with Riverdale’s Victoria Gotti, it would help his case if he was not doing it in a brightly lit room. “And, yet, look who has just wandered into town.” Alice pointed a perfectly manicured hand in the direction of the car. “Mary Andrews.” 

 

FP snorted. “Holy fuckin’ shit.”

 

She smiled serenely at her former neighbor, and offered her a regal wave. One befitting of a Queen.  

 

“Alice, is that you?” 

 

“Who  _ else _ would it be?” Alice demanded. “Honestly, Mary, the questions you ask.” 

 

“Hey, Mare,” FP interjected. “I didn’t know you were coming back to town.” 

 

“Yes, well, I thought I would surprise everyone,” she told them, and she walked up the steps of Alice’s front porch, and joined them on the swing. Alice would have normally protested the intrusion, but she was just tickled pink at how the most delicious moment of neighborly gossip was going to fall on her lap. “Make sure that Fred is handling the competition okay.”

 

“Oh, I’d say he’s  _ handling _ her, alright.” 

 

“Have there been more debates?” She questioned. 

 

“That wasn’t what I meant,” he said. “I think they’re getting along  _ quite _ well. If you get what I’m sayin’.” 

 

“Well, I suppose that makes sense,” she allowed. “I mean, Archie is dating Veronica.”

 

“For Heaven’s sake, Mary,” Alice said, trying to keep her cool. “Will you just follow FP’s gaze? I feel it will illuminate his comments.” She wrinkled her nose as she glanced over at the window the two politicians were standing in. “How unbelievably uncouth.” 

 

“What is he doing?” 

 

“I think we laymen call that...cheating on you,” FP said. “With a very  _ stupid _ choice.”

 

“Is this what he said we needed to talk about? He mentioned some--”

 

“Oh, that,” Alice said, her tone bored. “You weren’t aware that your son joined the Mafia? He didn’t see fit to discuss that with you?” 

 

“What???”

 

“I see,” she said. “Well, either we can discuss this indoors, or you can go over there and interrupt the latest scene from As Elm Street Turns.” She smiled sweetly. “I have to go back inside and see our grandbabies.” The look of childlike adoration that FP gave her when she called them their grandbabies more than made up for the potential of an explosive reaction from Polly. She squeezed his hand. “I’ve already dealt with this situation, you see. I don’t need to watch the rerun.”

 

“I--I--”

 

“Don’t you think you should know where you stand?” Alice asked. “I mean. That’s what’d I’d want in your situation.”

 

“You’re right,” Mary decided. “Thank you for letting me know.” 

  
  


***

  
  


FP kissed her hungrily, his hands running through her hair, and she smiled dreamily at him when he pulled away to catch his breath. Alice tasted of cigarettes and coffee, with a hint of the fruit tart she’d made for them that day, and there was  _ nothing _ he wanted to do more than make her taste like him. Sure, it was probably wrong to be over the moon that your 41 year old fiancee had grandchildren in general, let alone to be overjoyed that she wanted them to be  _ their _ grandchildren, but he loved Alice, and the babies made her happy (he made her happy too, but he knew how much she’d missed those damn kids), and, if he was honest, being included in that part of her life meant the fucking world to him. 

 

“Junior Mint?” He suggested. “And Dippin’ Dots?”

 

Alice giggled. “Jonesy, you can’t be serious? I mean, maybe,” she said, and he could tell she was considering it. “I’ll think about them.” 

 

“I love you, Allie,” he insisted. “Every day I think of reasons to love you more.” 

 

It was true. FP Jones wasn’t really a sap, but he was hopelessly in love with the woman that stood in front of him, even when she was stood in front of him looking entirely less than perfect. He knew that Alice hated that. He knew that she  _ liked  _ being viewed a certain way, that it meant something to her that she had managed to be able to live on Elm Street, that she needed to portray herself as still worthy of living there, despite the fact that her ticket out had been an abusive serial killer. 

 

Her standing there in jeans and one of his flannel shirts, her hair all messed up from their cuddling on the swing, the high heels she typically favored having been cast aside in favor of a pair of sneakers, (he was sure they were more expensive than he could imagine, but it was still a far departure from Northside Alice that he was willing to indulge her), was such a turn on for him, it wasn’t even funny. Sure, he thought her pencil skirts were hot as hell, and she could wear those stilettos in bed any day of the week, but, yeah, newly casual Alice was someone that FP  _ definitely _ appreciated. 

 

“You okay?” He asked.

 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she assured him. “I’m just...I’m okay.” 

 

“Good,” he whispered. “It’s gonna be alright, Al. I promise.” He looped his arms around her. “I’ll be there with you until it is. Okay?” 

 

“Yeah, okay,” she whispered. “And for the aftermath?” 

 

He nodded. “Yeah, Allie, for the aftermath.” He pressed another kiss to her lips. “Come on, it’ll be alright. You said you wanted to see the babies, yeah? What if Polly decides to put ‘em to bed or something.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she chided, a smirk coming to her lips. “That would be downright responsible of her. I suppose that we probably shouldn’t be standing so close to the door though. Mary and Fred would think that we were spying.”

 

“You? Spying?” He scoffed. “Never, Alice.” He placed a hand on the small of her back. “It’s really gonna be okay,” he whispered. “I promise. No one is going to judge you, not here, not on my watch.”

 

“I love you, Jonesy,” she said. “More than anything. I love you.” 

 

“Love you too,” he whispered. “Come on, don’t be scared. They’re your family.”

 

“I’ve never really had a family before,” she admitted. “Just the girls…” 

 

“I know,” he told her. “It’s okay, Alice,” he repeated. “Everything that you think is wrong with you, that’s okay, honey, I swear to you.” FP pulled her close. “I know that you...fuck, Al, I am so sorry that I let my pride get in the way of us,” he said, his tone and his eyes sincere. “Not just back in high school, but, that day in the auditorium, that day in Pop’s. I think back and I wish that I had just given you that fucking letter and taken you by the fucking hand and told you that things were going to be alright, that I wanted to give us a chance, and instead I saw you with Hal and thought that you would be better off. I got scared, Alice.”

 

“How were you supposed to know he was a serial killer?” She questioned. “The two of you barely knew each other. You never wanted to know each other.” 

 

“Still,” he sighed. “I can’t help but wish I had.”

 

“I wish you had too,” she admitted. “But, Jonesy, what if he had gone after you? I couldn’t have lived with myself.” She looked up at him, and he noticed the glint in her eyes. “What letter, though? Tell me more.”

 

“Aw, Allie, it’s embarrassing,” he mumbled. “I don’t know what I was thinking. You’d probably laugh at it if you read it.” 

 

“You won’t show it to me?” Alice pouted, and he pressed a kiss to her pout. He knew when he’d been had. “Why not, Jonesy?”

 

“It’s back in the trailer,” he settled on. “I would have to go get it, and I don’t know how safe that is, especially at night, and given what our next door neighbor is doing…” He sighed.

 

“Well I don’t expect you to get it right away,” she decided, and he watched her wrinkle her nose at the mention of Fred. “You would think he would have the slightest amount of discretion…”

 

FP snorted. “It’s Fred. I don’t think that he thinks in those terms. Especially when he’s faced with temptation in the form of Hermione Lodge.” He squeezed her butt, unable to help himself. “You know I can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

 

“I would hope not,” she told him. “We have no reason to be discreet,” she added. “What do we have to hide?” He chuckled. “I see no reason to hide you. Not from the kids, not from anyone.” 

 

“I know, Allie,” he told her. “I’m not gonna hide you either.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Though, if I was going to hide you, don’t you think I would do a better job than they are? They’re about as indiscreet as the children.” 

 

“You mean you  _ wouldn’t _ consider a gigantic  _ window _ without an appropriate shade as a good hiding spot? What a shame. I think that would actually be kinda hot.” 

 

“I said I wouldn’t consider it a  _ hiding _ spot,” he murmured, directly into her ear. “Not that I wouldn’t consider it a good place to christen. You know, if you’re into that.”

 

“You know I am.” He felt her hand grip his ass, and he practically jumped, taking note of the smirk on her face. “It’s just a shame that it won’t happen tonight. I bet we have more stamina than the two of them.” She licked her lips. FP felt his blood start to pool south. 

 

“Al…” 

 

“What?” She asked, her tone innocent. “You like what you hear?” 

  
  



	23. catch her stealing, she won't confess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The word of the day is unimpressed children,” Alice said. “Used in a sentence: Grandma Alice is unimpressed that Neighbor Fred doesn’t realize why he shouldn’t be caught kissing his political rival.” Juniper seemed to find her displeasure to be a source of amusement.

“You know that I like what I hear,” he murmured, and his hands firmly gripped her sides. He drew her in for a kiss. “Listen, Al,” he said, once they pulled apart. “I swear to you if any of those damn little shits says a damn thing they shouldn’t be saying about you, there will be hell to pay.”

 

“How romantic of you,” she remarked. “You always know the way to a girl’s heart.”

 

“Not any girl’s heart,” he whispered, as he traced his finger tips down her back. “Just yours. Was never that great with the others.”

 

She kissed him again. “It’s a good thing that I’m all you need, isn’t it?” 

 

“Of course,” he agreed. Alice  _ was _ all he needed. He loved her very much, and he wanted more than anything to make sure that she was okay, and not just faking being okay. “I love you, Allie,” he insisted. “You...your girls...every part of you that you think is a flaw? That’s part of what I love.” 

 

“I know,” Alice said, and she laid her head on his chest, right where his tattoo for Jellybean was. “I know it is. I just...find myself hard to love sometimes.” 

 

“You know me, I’ve always liked a challenge,” he teased. He ran his hands through her hair, and tugged playfully at her curls. “I want you to know that you’re not hard to love,” he whispered. “You weren’t hard to love when we were kids, and you’re sure as hell not hard to love now. The only time you were  _ ever _ hard to love was when that  _ asshole _ conned you into marrying him when you came back from your ‘semester away’. Loving you, while you were with him, it damn near killed me. I never understood--”

 

“I didn’t want to,” she said, her tone clipped. “I had to. The Sisters of Quiet Mercy was expensive. I couldn’t afford to pay that off when all was said and done. So, he said that if I would be his wife, he would...handle the fiscal compensation, and protect me from myself. I was scared, I was terrified, you were enlisting and you had your own issues, you were  _ homeless _ what could you possibly have done to help me? It was just easier to agree. I couldn’t come crawling back to the Serpents after it looked like I betrayed them.”

 

“I would have helped you, Allie. I would have married you.” 

 

“No, you would have thrown your whole life away on me. You wouldn’t have the kids...I wouldn’t have the kids. I don’t regret what happened to us. I regret that we weren’t together, that we were miserable, but I don’t regret your kids, or mine, even if Polly is driving me batshit.”

 

“I don’t regret them either,” he said. “Al, are you sure that Polly is mentally well? I mean, she is in a cult, and she...seems a bit...off.” 

 

“I couldn’t tell you,” she said. “Harold insisted it was Jason’s influence. I thought she was doing illegal drugs.”

 

“Maybe you should look into it? I know it’s not my place, but--”

 

“We’re in this together,” she said, her tone firm. “So, yes, it is your place.” 

 

“Polly won’t agree.” 

 

“Polly is a teenager. She is behaving typically by rejecting her parental influences.” Alice wrinkled her nose. “It’s how she’s doing so that is atypical.” She sighed. “I can’t avoid them forever, can I?” 

 

“You don’t really want to,” he murmured. “Think of how terribly they’d behave without your guidance. They’d probably seek out negative influences. What if they went to Hiram?”

 

Alice looked like she had been sucking on a lemon. “One disaster to fix was bad enough. Let’s not tempt fate.” 

  
  


***

  
  


“The word of the day is  _ unimpressed _ children,” Alice said, her tone droll, as she picked up Juniper and Dagwood from the pack and play she had bought for them before Polly had left for San Francisco, seeing that both grandchildren had abandoned sleep for the pursuit of observing their grandparents’ neighbors engage in depressively banal verbal discourse. “Used in a sentence: Grandma Alice is unimpressed that Neighbor Fred doesn’t realize why he shouldn’t be caught kissing his political rival.” Juniper seemed to find her displeasure to be a source of amusement. 

 

“He was actually getting a blow job,” FP supplied, and her eyes widened, as she gestured to the infants in her arms. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

 

“What if their first word is blow job?” She hissed. “How  _ awkward _ would that be? Knowing my luck it would probably be in public!”

 

“I think it would be hilarious,” he admitted. “We could just blame it on the kids. What difference would it make?”

 

Despite herself, Alice smirked. “That would be funny. Can you say Grandpa FP?” The twins babbled happily at her, but made no effort to actually attempt speech. She supposed they were too young. “Does Grandpa FP want to hold them?” 

 

“Yeah, Allie, I’d love to.” 

 

“I need to check on our problem children, anyways,” she said, her tone downright professional. “What did you say you did with all of them? Fighting in the street is so uncouth.” 

 

“Cuffed ‘em,” he said. “Freddie’s cuffed to our fridge, Mary’s cuffed to a cupboard, and, as for Hermione? I thought I’d introduce her to a stove.” 

 

“It’s an unorthodox method, I admit,” she allowed. “I am impressed, Jonesy. Good work.”

 

She kissed him tenderly on the lips, before she kissed each twin on the tops of their heads, and turned on her heels to saunter into the kitchen. She was just so entirely tickled pink at the thought of all three of the Andrews trifecta  _ handcuffed _ because they wouldn’t stop pawing at each other in an  _ utterly  _ unfun fashion. Alice doubted that sex would be particularly enjoyable on the pavement, but, at least that would have been a delicious call to the Sheriff. 

 

“Children, children, children,” she sighed, as she crossed her arms. “What on earth was that little display? An attempt at dominance? Fighting on the street is a violation of our neighborhood bylaws, which, I might add, our flighty neighborhood  _ lawyer _ here helped ensure the legalities of.” She gazed pointedly at Mary, who had the decency to look shamed. 

 

“He’s cheating on me!”   
  


“I believe that was established when Harold shot him, yes, but, Mary, what do you expect him to do? You keep stringing him along for who knows what reason. He’s a man. Hermione is easy to look at. And we all know I would never go for it with Fred.” She smiled serenely. “I thought perhaps you three were arguing over Archibald and his fixation with the Mafia life. This is indeed disappointing.” 

 

“Alice!”

 

“What, Fred? I would have accepted such a reason to fight as reasonable. You can’t expect me to let something so ridiculous as this go unpunished. I have half a mind to report your to the Sheriff, but, we are currently not speaking, so the three of you will be spared. Why don’t you tell Fred about your little October Surprise, eh, Herms?” 

 

Alice waggled her brows. Hermione had turned a lovely shade of pale, and she was just inwardly filled with glee. It was clear that Hermione had never told Fred her plans for winning the election, and, judging by her silence, she was faking ignorance. 

 

This, of course, was where Alice herself came in. She didn’t much care for Hermione. Fred was benignly useless, and deserved to know when he was about to be libeled.

 

“Dear me, have you forgotten? What a shame. I have the memory of an elephant. See, Freddie, back when Hermione and Hiram thought that my award winning paper of record was their personal playground, they wrote up a little insult to the English language and my retinas, known as the October Surprise, which gave  _ so many _ lurid details about your affairs in vivid detail. I have images in my mind that I could not erase even  _ with _ several bottles of wine.” 

 

“You’re lying.” 

 

“I take exception to that,” she snapped. “I’m not the liar here. That’s the three of you. Why don’t you tell your wife about Archie’s new full time job?”   
  


“Alice, that is not any of your business--”   
  


“Isn’t it? My daughter, and FP’s son, are two of Archibald’s best friends. I would prefer not having to live every day with the fear that they will become victim to a Mafia hit because of your child skipping out on capo duties.” 


	24. in the end, everyone ends up alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was speaking hyperbolic…” A deliciously evil grin came over Alice’s face, and she peered over at Hermione with an almost feral gaze. “Oh? Have you? Do tell. We’re all friends here.”

“I told you that I was going to fix it! Archie and I are going to fix things!” Fred insisted. Alice leveled him with a glare. “Why don’t you trust me?”   
  


“Is your idea of fixing it continuing your affair with Ms. Lodge?” She demanded, her arms crossed. “I really am dubious that that sort of behavior will thrill Hiram, or the FBI, for that matter. You do realize that you are proving to be entirely impossible to trust, right? Believe me, Fred, I would  _ love _ to trust that you and Archibald are doing the right thing to fix this, but I am doubtful that you are even capable of attempting to do so. You are a  _ construction _ worker. What in God’s name to you know about the inner workings of the Mafia?” 

 

“He’s done with it. He told me.” 

 

“It doesn’t work like that, Fred. I don’t know who told you that, but they lied. You aren’t just “done” with the Mafia. It’s the Mafia, Fred, not your gym membership.” 

 

Alice noticed that Hermione looked distinctly uncomfortable, and she used her skills of deduction to figure out that Hermione Lodge had been the one to put such delusional thoughts in Fred’s head. She was truthfully disappointed. She had lived next to Fred for a very long time, and had she taught him nothing? How on earth did he continue to be so foolishly trusting? It was maddening. 

 

“Hermione, did you seriously tell Fred that?” Alice demanded. “Tell us the truth, Hermione, because I know when I am being lied to.” 

 

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” she muttered. 

 

“What aspect of this do you not grasp as being a big deal?” She questioned, her tone light. She was unamused. “Please enlighten me.”

 

“Well, so what if Archie is in the family business?” Hermione questioned. “No one thought it was a big deal until you swooped in to play the role of the most intrusive person in Riverdale and convinced Fred that there was something  _ wrong _ with it.”

 

“Yes, there is something wrong with it!” Alice exploded. “Archibald is  _ sixteen _ years old, and, no offense, Mary, as of late has made perpetually idiotic decisions, that his father has done nothing to discourage. If I wasn’t going to be  _ outraged _ at the fact that Il Duce over in your ivy covered penthouse was having teenagers that don’t know any better do moronic and deadly things like perform blood promises, who would?” 

 

It was a rhetorical question. If anyone dared to answer her, they would rue the day. 

 

“I had no idea that you two were involving Archie in these things,” Mary murmured, “and to find out from Alice Cooper? Fred, what is the  _ matter _ with you? It was one thing when Hiram was in prison and you and Hermione were having a fling, and she was innocent of those things he did, but this is ridiculous.” 

 

“She wasn’t, Mary,” Alice said. “She wasn’t innocent. She was being the lying piece of shit she always was.” 

 

“At least my husband wasn’t a serial killer!” Hermione retorted. 

 

“Oh, grow up, Hermione,” she said. “Yes, Harold was a serial killer, but he was so terrible at it that I bet you and Hiram have murdered more people than him. I am perfectly capable of backing this accusation up with facts, with my acquaintance, Dr. Curdle.” She rolled her eyes. “The only way that that comparison would be in any way accurate would be if I had been the White Glove, or whatever.” 

 

“For that matter,” she continued, the scowl that was sure to become permanent etched on her face, “how long has this little...dalliance been going on? Your  _ entire _ mayoral campaigns?”

 

“And, so what if it has? You and FP are back together!”

 

“How did you know that I murdered someone?” 

 

“I was speaking hyperbolic…” A deliciously evil grin came over Alice’s face, and she peered over at Hermione with an almost feral gaze. “Oh? Have you? Do tell. We’re all friends here.” 

 

“Poppa Poutine. His son, Small Fry. He came to avenge his father’s death. I shot him dead. Hiram, he said no one would ever know, how the hell did you find out?” 

 

Hermione, Alice felt sad to say, had never been very bright. “A good journalist never tells her sources,” she purred, her eyes lit up with unbridled glee. “And, I am a  _ very _ good journalist.” 

 

She clapped her hands, causing all three of the miscreants to jump. “I trust the three of you can go home and discuss this debacle like adults? Mary? For the sake of the children.”

  
  


***

  
  


“They’ve gone home,” FP announced, as he re-entered the living room, and found Alice sitting on the couch, and watching the twins sleep. “You alright?” He sat down beside her, and she laid her head on his shoulder. It was nice, being able to sit with Alice like this. He really enjoyed it. He really loved her. “Want me to wake them up?”

 

“No, let them sleep,” she insisted. “I’m just regretting that our two choices for mayor are having an affair with one another, and one of them is running on a family values platform, while the other is killing people with names that just make me hungry.” 

 

“What are you talking about? Names that make you hungry?” 

 

She let out a heavy sigh. “French fries and loaded poutine, or something along those lines. It appears that Hermione has dabbled in practicing her shooting skills.” She rolled her eyes. “What a disaster. The town would be better off if the twins ran for mayor. At least they’re too young to have a web of scandals and insanely poor choices following in their wake.” 

 

“You could run for mayor?” FP suggested. “You’d be the sexiest mayor alive, babe.” 

 

“I don’t think so. I have enough issues to deal with. I don’t need to add trying to prod the town back into functionality again to them.” She sighed. “Plus, this is  _ much _ more fun,” she purred. “Think of all the  _ articles _ I can write. Think of the  _ papers _ that I’ll sell.” She stretched herself out on the couch so her head was in his lap, and she keened softly as he ran his fingers through her hair. “I think we should just burn the town to the ground. Start fresh.” 

 

“You remember when we were kids? We used to think life on the Northside was so  _ fucking _ easy? I miss those days.” 

 

“I miss them, too,” she admitted. “I really missed you, FP. I’m sorry that we stopped being friends. I wish we hadn’t. If I could go back…”

 

“That’s on me, too, Allie,” he whispered. “Not the only one who made choices they regret. How can I bring Jellybean here?”   
  


“It’s very rare that you were given full custody,” she whispered. “What the hell has Gladys been doing?”   
  


“I don’t know,” he sighed. “Fuckin’ up, like always, I’m sure.”   
  


“I think that Jellybean will be okay,” she said. “I just...I hope she likes me.” Alice hated to admit this, but, she was nervous about meeting the preteen. Sure, she had met Jellybean before, but the girl had been younger, and she had been...it had been a different life for her back then. “Do you think she will?”   
  


“Don’t see why she wouldn’t,” he whispered. “I like you.” 

 

“You’re not your daughter, Jonesy,” she pointed out. 

 

“Jughead likes you,” he said. “She’ll be cool. I’m the one she has issues with.” 

 

Alice clasped his hand. “She’ll come around,” she whispered. “It will just take time. Was she happy to see you when Jughead was in the hospital?”

 

“Didn’t come,” he muttered. “Stayed with her grandparents. I didn’t want her seeing the boy like that.” 

  
  


***

  
  


“Ms. Smith?” Veronica asked, her tone subdued, and Alice peered up from the article that she was editing to find the Lodge girl standing in the entrance to her home office, looking like she was about to pass out from fear. “Are you busy?” 

 

“Is there something you need, Veronica?” Of course Alice was busy. She was  _ constantly _ busy, such was the part and parcel of the numerous tasks and roles that she’d taken on over the course of her life. That didn’t mean she couldn’t indulge the child. She was probably the closest person poor Veronica had to a sane, reasonable, maternal figure. Even she had to admit that was depressing. “Do come in.” 

 

“I was wondering if I could stay here, like, just until things calm down at home,” she told her, and she tucked her hair behind her ears. “Daddy is angry at Archiekins for wanting to get out of the family business, and Fred and Mom are just making things  _ worse _ and it’s  _ so _ awkward. I was going to just ask if I could stay with Archie, but I  _ heard _ them all last night, and--”

 

“Go ahead,” she said, her tone dismissive. “I am absolutely  _ stunned _ to hear that things aren’t going well at home.” 

 

“Really?” 

 

“I don’t like your parents,” Alice said, her tone flat. She watched for the girl’s reaction as she took a sip of her coffee. “We have a history that is deeply antagonistic. I won’t fall for your mother’s attempts to convince me that she has changed or is my friend. As for your father? He can bite me. I have no idea why you want to stay with us, but I am fine with it.” 

 

“I’m worried about Archiekins,” she admitted. “I think that my dad is planning something, and I think it’s something bad.”

 

“In other words, water is wet and penguins can’t fly. Of course he has something planned, and of course it’s something bad. What is particularly surprising about that?” 

 

“He’s my boyfriend, shouldn’t that  _ mean _ something?”

 

“Oh, Veronica,” Alice said, her tone disappointed. “You know better than anyone that Archibald being your boyfriend means  _ nothing _ to Hiram. All your father wants is ways to keep you in line, under his thumb. How  _ did _ he get out of jail, anyways?” 

 

“They made me testify on his behalf,” she whispered, and Alice said nothing as she let the door slam behind her. “I didn’t want to, but they  _ threatened _ me until I did. You must think that I’m hideous.” 

 

“I--listen, Veronica. You are not the summation of your parents, or their sins. You’re a  _ child _ and you shouldn’t be in these situations, just like Archibald shouldn’t be in these situations. I don’t think that you’re hideous. You’re not precisely the friend I would have chosen for Elizabeth, no, but...you’re not Hermione. You’re not Hiram. And the fact that they thought nothing about threatening their high school sophomore into testifying on their behalf tells me all that I need to know about the type of people they are.” 

 

“Can’t you expose them? For what they are? I’d go on the record.” 

 

Alice smirked. “You’d go on the record? For me? Or for the Feds?” She smiled sweetly at Veronica, and she pushed her chair away from the desk, determined to appear as if she was doting and caring. “I think that the FBI would be  _ very _ interested in this little tale. Don’t you?”

 

“I’d do anything to keep my friends safe,” Veronica insisted. “You, the Feds, anything. I just don’t want them getting hurt. I  _ never _ wanted them getting hurt.” 

 

“I agree with you,” she sighed. “It’s unfortunate that these things happen.”   
  


“I’m so sorry about Jughead,” she added. “I didn’t know that my dad wanted to hurt him. I didn’t know that he had planned that. I don’t know how Mr. Jones will ever be able to forgive me. Will he even want me living with all of you?”

 

“Don’t worry about FP,” she said, her tone firm. “I’ll make sure that he’s okay with this. Did you want to head back to the Pembroke and get your things?” 

 

“I moved it all to the basement of Pop’s,” she admitted. “He told me that I could have Pop’s if I signed away every part of my relationship to my family, or the business. Mom won’t let him kick me out, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time. I don’t want to be homeless, Ms. Smith. Please--”

 

“You won’t be,” she insisted. “You can stay with us. You may share with Elizabeth.” 

  
  



	25. and the truth came out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And, with that, Polly was gone.

The Lodge girl gaped at her. Alice scowled. “What are you staring at?”

 

“You--”

 

“You honestly can’t think that I would allow you to live in the basement of a diner, do you? Are you out of your mind? I understand that the teenage brain is undeveloped, but…” She shook her head. “Your parents should be providing you with a suitable home, in the absence of them, I will do.” 

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you’re a child, Veronica,” she said. “It’s not your fault that your parents have tried to lead you down this path of debauchery, and you took in Polly when she needed a place to stay. I would not stop you from seeking refuge in my home, and I am certainly not letting you live in secret in a diner, not when there is a ridiculous war brewing courtesy of your moronic parents.”

 

“Are you sure?” 

 

“Yes,” Alice said. “I am sure.” She leveled her gaze at the girl. “Honestly? You are the least of my problems right now, Veronica. Go--have Elizabeth and Jughead help you get your things,” she said, her tone dismissive. “You can take the station wagon.” 

 

“Thank you, Ms. Smith,” Veronica said. “Is there anything I can do for you?” 

 

Alice sighed. She was already getting a headache. “Yes,” she said, through gritted teeth. “Produce my idiot child for me? And those children of hers?” 

 

“She’s in a bad mood,” Lodge warned her. “She’s angry you’re dating Mr. Jones.” 

 

“I am well aware of Polly’s feelings on the subject of my dating life,” Alice said. “She needs to learn that heeding to the whims of her, and her sister, has only ended with me getting hurt. I don’t much care that FP was part of the debacle that was Jason Blossom’s death,” she admitted. “My only regret is that killing him caused Polly to sanctify someone who was never a decent person.”

 

“I’m going to offer her a choice,” she said, electing to be honest. “I don’t care what she does. She can rejoin that farm for all I care. I just want her to relinquish her rights to my grandchildren.”

 

“Are you serious?” 

 

“I don’t have the energy to police every move that she makes,” she said, her exhaustion evident in her tone. “If Polly wants to ruin her life chasing the ghosts of things that never were? Well, so be it. I have enough issues to deal with without wondering whether she’s coming home from her sadistic cult meetings, or not. I will not have my grandchildren fall victim to Polly’s whims. They are innocent.”

 

“I’ll--I’ll send her in, Ms. Smith,” Veronica said, and she smiled benignly at her, her fingers  reaching out for her pack of cigarettes, wishing she had something stronger to dull the aggravation of the conversation. “If she’s still here.”

 

“Thank you, Veronica.”

 

Alice lit the cigarette. The Lodge girl closed the door to her office behind her.

 

Polly had always been a flighty child. She had constantly been at war with both her mother and her father, oftentimes having meltdowns over the most ridiculous things, not caring that Hal’s temper could be fierce and caring even less that Polly would not be the one that he took his anger out on. Alice could count the times she had run away from home on both hands. Frankly, she was tired of it. If Polly wanted to gallivant off into the sunset and waste her inheritance on hair ribbons, and join farms that really were cults, Alice did not have the energy to stop her. 

 

She had Sierra McCoy draw the papers up. If Polly was willing to sign them, she was willing to let her go. And she would never expect to see her again. 

 

“Veronica said that you wanted to see me,” Polly said, her gaze shrewish. “Have you reconsidered your position on forgiving dad?”

 

Alice exhaled loudly. The smoke blew in Polly’s general direction. “I am never going to forgive your father for what he did to me. He terrorized your sister for months! Months! And killed and injured so many people! The fact that he strangled me is just icing on the cake. And you expect me forgive him? Why?”

 

“Edgar--”   
  
“Let me ask you something,” Alice hissed. “Did you come here because you wanted to be a family again? Or did you come here because your cult leader wanted you to recruit your sister and myself? And, Polly? I know when you’re lying.”

 

Polly scoffed. “How dare you insult Edgar when you’re dating a gang leader? You know what FP did to Jason, Mom, How can you endorse that?”   
  


“Easily,” she said. “FP did what he had to do for his family,” she said, “He wasn’t the one that shot Jason. It wasn’t his fault your father’s bloodline is absolutely  _ batshit _ and murder happy. I’m not even sorry that he died. My only regret is the fact that since he died, you think that blindly following his plans for you is a great idea.”

 

“FP Jones did what he did that day in the Wyrm to protect his son, his family, and I will do the same. Tell me the truth, Polly.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“You didn’t come here to check on us, you didn’t come here because you felt safe again, you came here because you thought that Elizabeth and I would be easy marks, that we would fall for the farm’s messages and be led back there by your side.” 

 

“And so what if I did?” 

 

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Alice said, her tone light. “You’re going to sign custody over of the twins to me,” she said. “And you’re going to do it now, otherwise I will have you arrested for child endangerment.” 

 

Polly blinked. “What?”

 

“You heard me. You can screw around with the farm all you want. Frankly, I have given up controlling you.” 

 

“Why are you taking the twins?”

 

“Because, you are not the only one capable of doing research,” Alice snapped. “Did you think I wouldn’t have my attorney investigate your involvement with the farm? Of course I did. I know that you’re involved in some shady things, Polly. I won’t let my grandchildren be brought down with you. You had your chances.” 

 

“What are you going to do if I don’t?”

 

“Are you kidding? I don’t have to do anything. Cheryl already has a contingency plan. And you will sign. Because you won’t like it.”

 

“What’s in this for me?” Polly demanded.

 

“Well, for starters, I won’t have the Sheriff investigate your farm, nor will I have him look into the connection that Edgar appears to have with your father--”   
  


“I’ll sign. God, Mom.”

 

“And you’ll leave.” 

  
And, with that, Polly was gone.


End file.
